


Above the Clouds

by Fornavn, gluupor, pnkmoneel



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Airships, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Androids, Established Relationship, M/M, Neil is a robot, Pirates, Post-Apocalypse, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-08-20 02:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20220229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fornavn/pseuds/Fornavn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluupor/pseuds/gluupor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pnkmoneel/pseuds/pnkmoneel
Summary: Join the crew of the pirate airshipMonsteras they steal items, shoot at people, cause explosions, and do several other dramatic things.





	Above the Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's notes:** First of all, I was very luck to be able to work with not one but two very talented artists. Thank you so much to both fornavn and pnkmoneel for all the incredible work they did. Thank you to ClockworkDragon and booksareourlove, who read it over for me. I would also like to give a shout out to everyone in the bb discord, who made this whole thing so much fun (and joined me on many, many sprints!) Finally, thank you to Niko and Bela who took over running the bang this year and did a great job.
> 
> The worldbuilding in this fic is heavily inspired by Philip Reeve's Mortal Engines series.

##### 

##### OVER THE KHAZAK GRASS PLAINS, YEAR 1424 NEW ERA (NE), JANUARY

Andrew shut off the engines and revelled in the silence. He could still hear the mechanical noises that resulted from keeping the gasbag at the appropriate pressure to maintain their altitude, but it was as quiet as it got aboard an airship. He took a few minutes to himself to enjoy it.

He watched the sky turned pink and lavender in the west as the orange sun sank beneath the flat line of the horizon. It was time to stop for the night. Unless they were in a hurry, they rarely travelled at night; there were too many chances to miss something interesting in the dark.

The airship couldn’t be anchored outside of port so they were at the mercy of air currents when the engines were off. The air was never perfectly still at this altitude, but it was a relatively calm night. There was nothing to be seen in any direction; it had been days since even Nicky's eyes had caught a glimpse of anything other than herd animals down on the plains. Neil would eventually man the flight deck for night watch as he didn't require any sleep, but in the meantime Andrew had no qualms about leaving the _Monster_ with no one at the helm for a couple hours while he had dinner with his family.

Heading down into the warmth below deck, he unwrapped his scarf from around his face and neck. The thick, woollen monstrosity that Nicky had knitted during one of his infrequent caretaking phases was necessary to protect his skin from the bitterly cold temperatures at high altitudes.

The _Monster_ was only a small ship, especially compared to long-range cargo carriers or passenger transports that Andrew and his family preyed upon. It had a jet black balloon envelope that allowed others to fear the doom that came for them during the day but slid like a shadow through the night. The balloon carried a five-tier gondola: the top deck (called the flight deck) was open to the elements, save for the glass-walled uninsulated pilot’s cabin. Andrew spent most of his time there, dressed in heavy fur and wool to keep him warm. Directly underneath the flight deck was the crew deck which held six crew chambers and the galley. Then there were two tiers of cargo holds that separated the engine room from the crew quarters. The engine room powered all the outer engine pods and propellers, as well as the multiple cannons that dotted the _Monster’s_ hull. Water pipes ran around the engines and throughout the entire hull of the ship, using the excess heat produced by the engines to heat water that kept the interior of the ship toasty warm despite the outer temperatures.

Andrew headed down to the galley; everyone would be gathered there at this time of day. Located at the bow of the ship, the galley was ringed with giant windows that provided a spectacular view, at least during the daylight hours.

The room was awash with blue-green light that emanated from the bioluminescent lamps: glass casings filled with water which housed thousands of tiny glowing organisms. Having gas lamps was impossible when flames and sparks could mean a death sentence. Any source of fire onboard could cause the lifting gas to ignite. Andrew had even given up smoking when he'd started his illustrious career. He didn't care much about his own life but he was unwilling to kill his family in a careless fiery explosion.

Kevin was sitting at the single table in the middle of the room with his left arm draped across it. The panel on his wrist was open, showing the internal clockwork; Neil was futzing around inside it with a tiny screwdriver.

“Make a fist,” said Neil.

When Kevin obeyed there was an unpleasant grinding noise.

“Hmmm,” said Neil, frowning, as he continued poking around.

“I don't think even your field repair skills can fix this,” said Kevin. “We'll have to go see an actual mechanic or maybe a robotic engineer next port we make.”

“Abby can take a look when we reach Palmetto,” said Andrew, taking an algae brick out of the food storage cupboard. Algae bricks were tasteless and green but he still preferred them to the protein-rich beetle bricks. Sure, the beetles were ground to a paste so they were completely unrecognizable as insects, but he swore they still wriggled.

He poured himself a cup of water from the reclaimer and turned to find everyone watching him in surprise, with the exception of Neil who was still peering into Kevin's arm with a furrowed brow.

“I thought we were going west,” accused Aaron.

“Abby’s not the only person who can fix his arm,” said Nicky. “There are other qualified people. The woman who fixed my eyes last time they went on the fritz isn’t far from here.”

“Neil also needs repair and the only one I trust to do it is Abby,” said Andrew, taking a seat. He gently pushed aside Neil’s toolbox to clear a spot for his dinner.

“I'm fine,” protested Neil without looking up.

“The servos in your right shoulder are clicking,” Andrew corrected. Neil did look up at that, squinting suspiciously. Andrew avoided looking at him and continued, “Besides, I want to talk to Wymack.”

“You're flying us thousands of kilometres out of our way because your sexbot needs a tune up?” sneered Aaron.

Andrew didn't answer. Aaron was frustrated and trying to get a rise out of him. Or from Neil, but that wasn't difficult. Neil argued about everything. Andrew often wondered if it was something programmed into him (and _why_) or if it was learned behaviour.

“Jealous, Aaron?” Neil said now. “Don't worry; I'll come service you once I've got Andrew settled tonight.”

Andrew knew it was an idle threat but he still caught Neil's eye and raised an eyebrow. Neil grinned unrepentantly in return.

“Excuse me while I vomit overboard,” said Aaron.

“Better do it in the reclaimer,” said Kevin, taking him literally. “We need to preserve water if we're headed to Palmetto before our next resupply.”

Aaron shook his head and focused on Neil again. “I'll never be desperate enough to fuck a ‘bot.”

“Then ask Kevin if you're so hard up for it,” said Neil. “He'll sleep with anything on two legs.”

“You _do_ seem rather desperate,” said Kevin, appraising Aaron. Nicky snorted in amusement.

“Shut up, Kevin,” said Aaron. “Just because you can’t go any length of time without getting some doesn't mean the rest of us are sluts.”

“I’m not a slut,” said Kevin in affront. “I am polyamorous. I maintain multiple non-monogamous romantic relationships.”

“You get your dick wet in every city we make port.”

“To be accurate,” said Kevin examining the nails on his right hand, “I only do the fucking about half the time.”

“Gross,” replied Aaron. “I absolutely didn't need or want to know that. Let's talk about something else.”

Andrew had no idea why Aaron didn't expect Neil and Nicky to immediately continue with the topic, but Aaron was often surprisingly stupid for someone of his intelligence.

“I knew it!” said Nicky triumphantly. “Thea pegs you, right? I've always imagined that she pegs you.”

“I can't say that I've ever focussed any of my processing power on thinking about Kevin’s sex life,” said Neil, “but you’re probably right.”

Kevin's eyes went glassy. “Can we make a detour to Bangkok while we're in the east?”

“We are not going there just so you can get laid!” shouted Aaron.

“It’s been months seen I’ve seen her,” Kevin whined. “Andrew, can we go?”

“Depends on whether Wymack has a job for us or not,” replied Andrew.

“You’re expecting him to?” asked Neil.

Andrew didn’t mention the message he’d received at their last port. It was difficult for anyone to contact them since they travelled so often and irregularly. That Wymack had put the effort into getting a message to him indicated that it was important. He wasn’t entirely sure why he wasn’t telling the others about Wymack’s summons; there was something about it that put him on edge and he wanted to keep it to himself for now.

“He often does,” he replied instead.

“Hmmm,” said Neil, clearly doubtful. Andrew gazed back at him calmly. Keeping things from Neil wasn’t easy, what with Neil’s infernal nosiness (and sharp intelligence) added to the fact that Andrew didn’t like lying to him. He knew he’d have to offer Neil something more believable shortly.

Sure enough, when Andrew took his leave of the others Neil followed him back to his quarters. He waited for Andrew to invite him inside—he wouldn’t overstep any of Andrew’s boundaries or enter his personal space without permission, never assuming anything even years into their relationship—and locked the door behind him. He didn’t say anything right away; Andrew started his nightly routines, knowing that Neil would speak exactly when he wanted to and not before.

“The servos in my shoulder aren’t clicking,” said Neil, which hadn’t been what Andrew had expected him to question him about. “I don’t need to see Abby.”

“No,” agreed Andrew. “You need to see Bee, but I didn’t feel the need to broadcast that.”

Abby was one of the most gifted mechanics that Andrew had ever met. She was able to fix anything and was a genius with clockwork. Half of the ‘bots that kept Palmetto functioning had initially been scrapyard waste that she’d repurposed. Bee, on the other hand, was an engineer. She was a programmer and the only person on Earth that he would ever let glimpse Neil’s brain (or the circuits and neural pathways that substituted for one, anyway).

He knew Neil would prefer that no one ever had their fingers in his brain.

“I don’t need to see her,” said Neil, predictably vehement in his denial. “I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Then it won’t matter if she takes a look,” said Andrew reasonably. “I would appreciate it if you agreed.”

Neil’s eyes narrowed. “You’re being manipulative.”

“If you can tell me where we were when I told you our next port is going to be Palmetto, I’ll drop it,” bargained Andrew.

“Less than an hour ago, in the galley.” Neil’s ability to imbue every word with sarcasm that was practically visible was a talent that Andrew envied.

“Before that.”

“You didn’t tell me before,” said Neil in confusion.

“Yes, I did,” said Andrew, keeping his voice steady. “Last week before we headed into the plains.”

Neil looked disconcerted. “I don’t remember.”

“I know you don’t,” said Andrew, pulling him close. He felt better with his hands on Neil; as if as long as he had a hold on him nothing bad could happen.

Neil leaned against him, letting Andrew hold his weight. His eyes were worried, just like they always were when Andrew pointed out that he’d forgotten something. “Andrew…” he said.

“Agree to let Bee take a look at you.”

“Okay,” said Neil quietly.

Andrew held him a little too tightly and closed his eyes. He knew this wasn’t the last time they’d have this conversation.

They’d been repeating this argument for months now. Andrew had noticed a lapse last August. They’d been in Bangkok selling off some contraband and meeting a contact. They dealt with the seedier parts of humanity, meaning that they always kept in close communication with each other in order to watch each other’s backs. Andrew had arranged to meet Neil and when he’d gotten there, Neil—who had never let Andrew down before—had been nowhere to be seen. Neil had forgotten he was supposed to meet Andrew. When Andrew had finally tracked him down after a determined search of the city (not panicked, he definitely wasn’t panicked that Neil was missing), Neil had been killing time with Nicky, fleecing unsuspecting people out of their money. When Andrew had demanded why he hadn’t met him, Neil had just stared at him blankly, clearly not knowing what he was talking about.

The lapses in memory hadn’t stopped there. It would have been understandable if he was human, but his memory was supposed to be even more perfect than Andrew’s eidetic memory. Not only was he forgetting things now and then, he seemed completely incapable of remembering that he was forgetting. Every time Andrew mentioned one of his lapses in memory it was news to Neil.

Andrew tried not to let on that it worried him, but anything wrong with Neil was bound to worry him. Neil was… he didn’t have words for what Neil was to him, couldn’t explain how the synthetic man was more real and tangible than anyone else he had ever known. He didn’t like to acknowledge how deeply Neil could make him feel.

Andrew had spent his childhood shutting down any emotions. They’d been a liability in the type of life he’d led. He’d learned to be cool and emotionless and distant. Things had been much easier then, when his life was completely black and white. He had Aaron and Nicky and everyone else was an enemy. He didn’t need allies or to work with people he didn’t like. He protected his own and kept them out of harm’s way.

He had been destined for a short life with a brutal end. Sometimes that seemed preferable to how much caring about other people could hurt. He often cursed those responsible for how his life had changed. Neil had given him a home, Wymack had given him a purpose, Aaron and Nicky had given him a family. But most of all it was Kevin’s fault for dragging him out of that pit to begin with.

#### 

#### Twelve years previously

##### SHANGHAI, YEAR 1412 NE, MAY

Andrew hated the smell of the docks in the summer; the overbearing odour of fish in the humid weather was almost as unappetizing as the scent of garbage that permeated the area of the city that he called home. He hadn’t known until he was thirteen or fourteen that Eden was so named as a joke. In one of the Ancient religions Eden had been a lush garden, fertile and beautiful. Nothing like the slums in Shanghai’s south end. Word of mouth was that Eden hadn’t always been a shithole: not until the _Columbia_ disaster that occured the winter before he and Aaron were born. The airship had run aground, its toxic cargo spilling downstream. Now the contaminated area was only fit for the desperate and the very poor.

Andrew’s mother had been living in the area during the crash. It hadn’t been until years later that it became clear that the water and surrounding land had been poisoned. Most children born in Eden after the disaster had suffered some kind of strange deformity or mutation. He and Aaron had gotten off easily: sure they were far shorter than average and their body hair lacked pigment, but they both had four intact limbs and five working senses. Even their health wasn’t as bad as it could have been, although Aaron suffered from periodic migraines and Andrew had weak lungs that made him perpetually in danger of catching pneumonia.

Which meant that his smoking habit wasn’t his smartest decision. He didn’t care. Better an early death than lingering in poverty forever. He’d seen what the city did to those too old or infirm to make money. If he didn’t have Aaron and Nicky to protect he probably would have let himself die years ago.

Walking through the docks, he checked the fishers’ wares. His little family subsisted mostly on food bricks as they definitely couldn’t afford anything fresh, but it was almost Nicky’s birthday and Andrew wanted to get him something. It wasn’t due to sentimentality or caring about the boy who had wormed his way into Andrew’s protective circle, but Nicky’s upcoming birthday made him melancholy and Andrew had been listening to his blubbering for weeks on end about how his parents had abandoned him. Andrew was left with little choice but to do something nice to shut him up. He could have gone for some other type of food, but fish was easy to cook: all they needed was an open flame.

He liked fish well enough—it was the only source of fresh protein that was ever available to him and it certainly tasted better than the food bricks he usually consumed—but he didn’t have the all-encompassing love for it that Nicky did. Sure, algae bricks were fairly tasteless but Andrew didn’t understand Nicky’s insistence that his food bring him joy. As far as he was concerned, its only purpose was to keep him alive.

Nicky, on the other hand, often spoke about different types of food like he worshipped them the way that the Ancients had worshipped their deities. His childhood had been spent in Port Angeles, the floating city out in the ocean to the east of the main continent. Nicky always pronounced it Port An-_hell_-es, but Andrew wasn’t sure if that was the correct pronunciation (as he did not speak Spanglish) or if Nicky was simply making a joke.

Nicky spoke endlessly of fried fish, and fish with vinegar, and brick-baked fish, and other fish delicacies that had been plentiful at the vendors around the city. He glared at their food bricks balefully and lamented his cousins’ lack of palate. Not that Nicky was actually their cousin; he was just a boy whose parents had dumped him in Shanghai after an accident on their sea trading vessel had left him with almost no sight. By all rights he should have died in the slums, but instead—and Andrew was never sure exactly how he’d done it—he’d attached himself to Andrew and Aaron, like a barnacle that they couldn’t remove and grudgingly came to care about.

Andrew passed through the market until he reached the north end of the docks, within view of the massive algae tanks that were responsible for the majority of the city’s food production. He caught a faint whiff of the brackish plants even over the stench coming from the fishmongers. He knew one of the young men who worked for a fisherman that docked in this area; he’d lived in Eden until the precise second that he could afford to leave. Now he gave Andrew a discount on several ugly fish; those that were slightly deformed or ripped open by hooks. The type of fish that the wealthy wouldn’t buy and the sellers didn’t want to display.

Wandering back through the dockside market, he kept alert for anything else that caught his eye. Sometimes things of interest could be found in the sea. What other people considered junk could possibly be useful. He perused the stalls, surveying the wares. He liked to take apart anything made of clockwork to literally see what made it tick. Even broken and waterlogged clockwork could keep him busy for hours and he could usually get it for next to nothing.

There didn’t seem to be anything promising today, until Andrew caught sight of a circular disc—silver and shiny, reflecting a rainbow where the light hit it. It looked almost like metal but he’d never seen metal so pliable. He reached toward it but someone caught his wrist. Quick as a flash, he slid a knife into his other hand and twisted so that it pressed up against the ribs of the person who had dared touch him.

He’d noticed the other boy examining the items for sale, of course he had. Andrew noticed everything. The boy was tall, with skin several shades darker than even Nicky’s, who had a darker complexion than was usual for residents of Shanghai. He had black hair and green eyes that were currently half-angry and half-frightened as he stared down at Andrew.

“What are you doing?” he hissed at Andrew. He spoke in Trade, not the local dialect of Mandonese that was common in the fish market. He clipped the end of his words strangely and drew out his vowels. Clearly not a local, then.

“Don’t touch me,” replied Andrew, speaking in the same language. Everybody spoke Trade in addition to the local dialect, as it was (obviously) the common trading language across the entire main continent.

“That seedy is mine,” said the boy. “I saw it first.”

“Then you should have moved faster,” said Andrew, shaking off the boy’s grip. He picked up the disc and examined it from all directions. It didn’t seem to be metal, upon further inspection. He thought it was plastique, the strange brittle material that many Ancient artifacts were made from. “What does it do?”

“You don’t know?” asked the boy in exasperation. “What do you even want it for?”

Andrew watched him for several moments. “Looked neat,” he said. “Why do you want it so badly?”

“It’s an Ancient artifact,” said the boy. “I collect them.”

“Ancient artifact, is it?” Andrew looked back at the object in his hand with renewed interest. There were places that paid through the nose for any technology used by the ancient civilizations that used to populate the Earth. “What’s it do?” he repeated.

The boy huffed in frustration. “It doesn’t _do_ anything, not anymore. The Ancients used to store information on it.”

“How? Where’s this information written?” He didn’t see any of the strange Ancient symbols.

“We can’t read it,” said the boy. “They used a special machine to get the information out of it.”

“Huh,” said Andrew. Granted, he knew very little about the Ancients; his knowledge of history was very sparse. Shanghai had been an Ancient city, before the Long Winter and the famines and the wars; Andrew had seen pictures from before its destruction, showing towers made of sparkling metal and glass that stretched up to the heavens. The city that Andrew knew had been built on the bones of that destroyed city. Similar reconstructions had happened all over the main continent, where the land was still liveable. There were remnants of Ancient cities all over the world, even on the barren landmass across the ocean. Of course, it hadn’t been barren then, but a volcanic eruption and subsequent decades-long volcanic winter had made it so.

“So you see, it really can’t be of any use to you,” said the boy, overly patiently. “You have no reason to want it.”

“Keeping you from having it seems like reason enough,” said Andrew. He turned to the woman who owned the stall and quickly bargained her down to two yuan for the disc. The boy watched, his mouth agape, with barely concealed rage. He was soft, Andrew realized. He was soft and spoiled and probably rich. He’d always gotten whatever he wanted.

When Andrew turned to leave the stall, the boy stood in his way. He was more than a head taller than Andrew—closer to two heads, really—and was puffed up in his anger. Andrew gazed up at him levelly. The boy’s angry expression vanished slowly, replaced by uncertainty and a little fear. Maybe he had a little sense after all if he recognized that Andrew was someone to fear. He backed away slowly.

Andrew slipped his knife back up his sleeve and continued on his way home.

He noticed right away that the boy was following him: he was hardly stealthy. He seemed to think that either he was a master spy or that Andrew was an idiot. He darted from alley to overhang, shadowing Andrew through the streets.

Andrew stopped once he got into familiar territory. The surrounding buildings were all run-down and boarded up; only people with no other options lived in this part of town. Even locals didn’t like to walk through it as they’d all heard stories of the violence and depravity that occurred inside Eden.

Andrew had no reason to fear. Ever since he and Aaron had killed Drake Spear and taken control of his gang they’d walked these streets with impunity. No one would dare touch either of them. He could see dirty curtains in nearby windows moving slightly as the inhabitants looked out to see what was happening, but he knew that no one would interrupt him. He could easily murder the boy who was following him and no one would ever know or care. Even if the soft boy had rich parents that came looking for him, they would never hear a whisper of his presence on this street. Andrew could make him vanish completely without consequences.

“Why are you following me?” asked Andrew tiredly. He had no interest in a fight. He would defend himself and his own but he was too exhausted to fight for fighting’s sake.

The boy stepped out between two buildings, looking up and down the deserted street as if he was wondering if Andrew was in fact speaking to him.

“I want a favour,” he said, his words dripping with bravado.

Andrew raised an incredulous eyebrow.

It seemed to hit the boy suddenly that he was completely alone with someone who had already pulled a knife on him. “I mean, I would reward you handsomely for it,” he said, his words tripping over themselves in their haste to leave his mouth. “We could make a deal, between us two.”

“If you are propositioning me I will bury my knife in your gut and watch as you slowly bleed out while gasping for air,” promised Andrew.

“No!” cried the boy. “No, it’s not that! I have money, look.” He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket.

Andrew looked from the money back to the boy’s face. “What’s to stop me from taking your money and leaving you here with a knife sticking out of you?”

The boy blanched and took a step backwards.

“Have you always been this stupid?” Andrew asked.

The boy squared himself. Andrew was reluctantly impressed that he maintained his arrogance even when practically cowering in fear. “I must have been much stupider when I was a baby,” he said, then continued hurriedly before Andrew could react, “It’s not what you think, alright?” he babbled. “I’m Kevin Day.” He waited, expectant.

“Am I supposed to recognize you?” asked Andrew.

Kevin stared at him as if he’d started speaking a language he didn’t understand; Andrew’s complete lack of awe at hearing his name clearly did not compute. “Kevin Day?” he tried again weakly, this time sounding like he was asking Andrew to confirm that he was, in fact, who he said he was. “My mother was Kayleigh Day? The famed archaeologist?” At Andrew’s continued blank stare, he started spouting names. “What about Tetsuji Moriyama? Or David Wymack? You must have heard of _them_?” Andrew shook his head. “What did you learn in school?” demanded Kevin.

Andrew pointedly looked around the block, at the dilapidated buildings and garbage piling up in the street. Then he turned his flat stare back to Kevin. School was not a priority or even an option for those who grew up in this part of town. Andrew’s knowledge was more extensive than most only because he’d taught himself to read and voraciously consumed any written material he came across.

“Right,” said Kevin, slumping. “Right.” He squared himself again, as if the force of his personality could imbue Andrew with the knowledge he felt he should already have. “David Wymack is a well-known pirate.” That piqued Andrew’s interest. Being a pirate was a vocation he thought he’d like. “Or privateer, actually. He captains an airship,” continued Kevin. “He used to work with my mother; they scavenged Ancient artifacts from the Barren Continent. I need to find him.”

“I don’t know what that has to do with me,” said Andrew. He also wasn’t sure why he hadn’t stolen Kevin’s money and left him for dead yet. There was something about Kevin that bypassed Andrew’s usual defenses, much like Nicky had. If he wasn’t careful he was going to end up with a second barnacle.

“He always makes a stop in Shanghai in the late summer,” said Kevin. “Until then, I want your protection.”

“I’m not offering it.”

“You’re Andrew Minyard, right? I’ve heard of you. You rule Eden.”

“A soft prince like yourself has no idea what happens on these streets.”

“Fine, yes, that’s probably true,” said Kevin. “Which is why I want your protection. I’ll pay you.”

“I can take your money without the hassle of having to deal with you.”

“And I’ll take you with me,” finished Kevin.

Andrew paused. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to leave with Wymack,” said Kevin. “I know he’ll take me. You can come too. Leave this place.”

“I don’t go anywhere without my family,” said Andrew. He was trying not to let himself hope. He didn’t much like the idea of soaring through the clouds, but it sounded like freedom. Freedom and clear air and an escape from the gutter where he’d always lived.

“They can come with us,” offered Kevin instantly.

“You’re making a lot of promises on behalf of a man that isn’t here to speak for himself,” commented Andrew. “Especially since pirates aren’t particularly well-known for their morality.”

“_Privateer_,” corrected Kevin pedantically. “And he’ll do it. He loved my mother.”

“And what if he doesn’t? What then?”

“Then…” Kevin trailed off, and shrugged helplessly. “He will.” He nodded confidently. Andrew half-admired his conviction.

“So I keep you alive, give you a place to stay, and you take me, my brother, and my cousin with you when you leave?” said Andrew in consideration. He pretended to think about it, but he already knew he was going to agree. The reward of getting out of the slums far outweighed the risks. And if Kevin couldn’t keep his promise then Andrew would kill him, simple as that.

All it would cost him was spending a couple months in Kevin’s presence. He could handle that. Once he was out of here, he’d never have to see Kevin again.

##### PALMETTO, YEAR 1424 NE, MARCH

Despite Andrew’s desire to be there, they hadn’t headed directly to Palmetto. There were a couple common transit lanes used by shippers that ran through the Khazak grass plains that they hunted for a few weeks. Their stores were now full-up; they’d have to make port to sell their goods to the black market after Andrew spoke with Wymack.

Twelve years ago, Captain David Wymack of the airship _Fox_ had taken one look at Andrew’s defiant sixteen-year-old face and sighed deeply before allowing Andrew, Aaron, Nicky, and Kevin aboard. Andrew really hadn’t been expecting that reaction—by that time he’d spent four months in Kevin’s presence and was well acquainted with how full of shit he was—but it wasn’t the last time that Wymack had surprised him. Wymack, he later learned, had a soft spot for clearly broken people whom everyone else had the good sense to dismiss.

Wymack had retired from active pirating almost a decade ago now. He’d taken over Palmetto, the world’s only aerial city. Palmetto wasn’t a large city, its population mostly transient. It was made up of interconnected platforms, held aloft by large balloons. The city was completely free of all national affiliations and Wymack kept it completely neutral: a safe haven for anyone who needed one. There were strict rules about conduct and possessing anything flammable or capable of making sparks was punished by being forced to leave the city—quickly, by being thrown over the edge onto the mountain tops below.

Palmetto, by its very nature, moved locations frequently, but it mainly circled near the large mountains that split the eastern part of the continent in half, north and south. When growing up, Andrew had never imagined that such peaks could exist. The first time he’d seen them he’d thought that the mountains could actually touch the sky.

A thrill of excitement went through the crew of the _Monster_ as soon as the ship entered Palmetto’s airspace. The radio crackled to life, playing the very familiar recorded messages that sounded like home. For all that Andrew had been born and raised in Shanghai, he considered this his true birthplace: far above the Himalayas in the cold, crisp air.

Nicky was at the bow of the gondola, using his augmented eyes and the spyglass to keep watch for the first glimpse of Palmetto. He laughed joyously as soon as he saw it, reporting which flags were flying among the other ships docked there and whether there were any familiar patterns on the airships’ envelopes.

“I see an orange balloon!” he cried happily.

Neil, who’d been keeping Andrew company in the pilot’s cabin, rushed out on the flight deck and grasped the rail, leaning out as if that would help him see as far as Nicky could with the spyglass. “Matt!” he cried happily. They hadn’t seen the_ Upper Class_ in almost a year; even Andrew could admit that he wouldn’t be annoyed to see his… friends seemed too strong a word. Acquaintances. Allies, maybe. Fellow pirates.

“Get away from there,” said Andrew irritably. Neil was far too cavalier about hanging over the side of the gondola. Andrew’s stomach always swooped unpleasantly when he did and he tasted fear in the back of his throat. It angered him to no end how vulnerable Neil made him.

“I’m not going to fall.”

“I don’t care if you do,” Andrew lied. Neil rolled his eyes, having long ago stopped believing when Andrew said such things. “I need you down helping Kevin secure the engine room for docking. No gallivanting with your friends until your duties are done.”

“Sure thing, _Captain_,” said Neil sarcastically, but the proximity to Palmetto had put him in such a good mood that he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He practically skipped to the stairs that led below deck.

Nicky shouted back to Andrew to adjust his bearing; Andrew could now just see the numerous balloons that kept Palmetto aloft, looking like tiny dark specks against the landscape behind them. He adjusted the lever that controlled the rudder, turning them slightly to starboard.

It didn’t take long before Palmetto was in sight even for his unaugmented eyes. Sunlight glinted off the nearby snow capped mountains, temporarily blinding Andrew until he put on his dark goggles from where they hung around his neck.

“This is _Monster_ actual, requesting docking clearance at Palmetto,” he said into the radio once they were in range.

There was a slight pause before Palmetto’s docking officer responded. “You’re cleared for docking at bay D-24, _Monster_,” said a voice Andrew didn’t recognize, not that he was surprised. The turnover of the dock workers was very high. “You are reminded that Palmetto’s rules are to be obeyed at all times and any infractions will be dealt with harshly. If you’re unfamiliar with our city’s laws your dockmaster will make you aware of them.”

“Copy,” said Andrew and shut off the radio. Since they were approaching from the windward side, he shut off the engines, letting their momentum carry them close enough to attach the docking clamps. Aaron, Kevin, and Neil appeared on the flight deck, joining Nicky to stand along the starboard side: one at each of the four docking anchors. Andrew brought the _Monster_ slowly alongside of Palmetto, keeping it as steady as possible. The four of them tossed their ropes to the waiting dockhands, who reeled the airship in. Andrew felt a shudder go through the ship as the starboard docking clamps engaged, securing them to Palmetto’s deck.

Once they were docked, Andrew locked down his controls. Palmetto dock security was quite good, but Andrew wasn’t going to take any chances. He had no desire to stand on the corrugated metal plates that made up Palmetto’s deck and watch with his thumb up his ass as thieves flew away with his ship.

He jumped over the railing, ignoring the way his stomach dropped to his knees when he caught a glimpse of the ground below. Years in the air hadn’t made him completely comfortable with heights; instead he’d seen enough crashes that he felt afraid a lot of the time. He supposed it was better than feeling nothing.

Andrew instructed the others to stay with the airship until he’d checked in with the dockmaster and paid their docking fee. He was going to have to choose one of them to stay behind since they had valuable cargo aboard and he wanted to put off the whining and pouting for as long as possible.

He was surprised that Wymack himself was waiting for him in the dockmaster’s office.

“Andrew,” said Wymack with a nod. He then looked past Andrew toward the _Monster_. “Is Neil still with you?”

“No; I got tired of his smart mouth and abandoned him on a deserted island.”

Wymack stared at him flatly. “Knowing Neil, he’s still going to turn up like a bad copper before long.”

“Of course Neil’s with me,” said Andrew. “What of it?”

“Tell him to stay on the ship.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “You’ve met Neil; what makes you think that he’s going to do what anyone tells him to?”

“He trusts you. If you ask, he’ll do it without question.”

“He trusts me because I don’t lie to him,” Andrew pointed out. “I can only ask him to blindly trust me so many times before he won’t anymore.”

“I’ll explain, but…” Wymack shifted his eyes to glance around subtly which told Andrew all he needed to know.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach he nodded. “Be right back,” he said, tossing over a small pouch which contained the required docking fee.

When he got back to the ship the others were all standing on Palmetto’s deck plates, gawking to get a good look at who was around. Aaron was pretending that he wasn’t as excited as the rest of them, but Andrew would put money on him making enquiries about whether the _Vixen_ was nearby as soon as he got the chance. Neil was bouncing on the balls of his feet and Nicky was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Neil,” said Andrew. “Stay on the ship. The rest of you, go.”

There was a brief pause before Nicky, Kevin, and Aaron made themselves scarce. They knew better than to hang around for what was probably going to be an argument between Andrew and Neil.

Neil cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes piercing. He suspected that Neil could see into his soul when he looked at him like that. It was unnerving how well Neil knew him. Andrew liked to think of himself as an enigma but all it took was one impossible being to figure him out completely.

“Why?” Neil asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” Andrew said. He would, once Wymack told him what was going on. Although there was the possibility that he would edit the story if there was something he didn’t want Neil to hear. He could see Neil was about to protest, so he spoke up before he had the chance. “Trust me,” he said, playing a trump card. Neil never said no if Andrew asked him to trust him.

“Fine,” said Neil, looking away. “I thought you wanted Abby to take a look at my shoulder?” He’d forgotten again that it was Bee whom Andrew wanted him to see.

“Later,” said Andrew. Once he figured out what was up with Wymack, he’d escort him to Bee himself. He reached out to—something. He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted other than to touch Neil for reassurance, but Neil evaded his hand as he jumped back over the _Monster’s_ guardrail. He was always quick to show his displeasure. Andrew knew he didn’t like being left behind, especially without an explanation.

“Right,” said Andrew, his arm dropping back to his side. “Keep out of sight.”

“I’m going to be very annoyed if you’re walking into something where I should have your back,” said Neil, his tone filled with false lightness.

“It’s Palmetto,” replied Andrew. “What could happen?”

“So you understand my confusion,” said Neil, before leaving Andrew standing alone as he disappeared below deck.

Andrew headed back to where Wymack was impatiently waiting for him. “He’s going to be in a pissy mood for days,” he grumbled as he approached the older man. “This had better be worth it.”

Wymack shook his head but didn’t respond, which only served to put Andrew on higher alert. Usually he would make a crack about Neil’s moods being programmed by cats or something about how in _his_ day the ‘bots weren’t so uppity. Instead he just motioned Andrew to follow him before leading the way through the narrow, crowded walkways to _The Fox and Hound_, the bar he owned. Technically Wymack owned the whole city, but he operated the bar for profit and did all of his business out of the backroom. They were unlikely to attract eavesdroppers in Wymack’s private sanctum: he had enough loyal employees and other hangers-on who would keep out unwanted elements.

Andrew caught sight of several familiar faces as he entered the bar.

“Minyard!” called Matt Boyd, his face flushed and his eyes bright, clearly not on his first drink. “What brings you to this illustrious city?”

“Come and have a drink with us!” Dan Wilds, captain of the _Upper Class_, added.

Matt’s gaze had already slid over Andrew’s shoulder, looking for the person who was usually there. “Oi, did you lose—”

“Matt,” said Wymack, his tone forbidding.

Matt blinked a couple times in confusion, before looking to Dan for help.

Andrew detoured from following Wymack, stopping by the table that Dan and Matt were occupying. “D-24,” he said in an undertone. “Go keep him company; he’s pouting.”

Dan’s gaze sharpened. “Something wrong?”

Andrew nodded to Wymack’s retreating back. “Don’t know yet.”

“Let us know if we can do anything to help,” Dan offered.

“That’s not really the pirate motto, is it?” said Andrew, backing away.

“We’re privateers,” she corrected.

“The only pirate motto I care about is: yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!” Matt drunkenly shouted after him.

Andrew walked into Wymack’s backroom; Wymack was waiting by the door to shut it and lock it, the tumblers falling into place ominously. He took a seat, sweeping his long coat aside, and propping his feet up on Wymack’s desk. “This is all very clandestine,” he commented. “I’ll be put out if you’re just being more dramatic than usual.”

“You’re needlessly dramatic yourself,” pointed out Wymack. He went to a side cupboard and pulled out a bottle of the good stuff: actual, old-fashioned aged alcohol, not the cheap swill from homemade stills that Andrew had to make do with most of the time. He waggled it at Andrew in offer.

“Neat,” said Andrew, nodding.

Wymack poured out two fingers and passed it to Andrew. “You spend all your time with Neil and Kevin. I assumed that dramatics would make you feel at home.”

“You forgot Nicky,” said Andrew, taking the offered glass. Wymack sat across from him and leaned back. “So what’s got your panties in a twist?”

Wymack swirled his drink, staring into it as if it might have answers for him. “There have been some people in town lately, asking after advanced humanoid robots.”

Andrew didn’t let himself visibly react. “That doesn’t sound so strange. Clockwork automatons can fetch a high price on the black market.”

Wymack waved that away. “They weren’t asking about the clockwork ‘bots. They were asking about something in particular. One far more advanced than anything else I’ve ever heard of. One that sounded suspiciously like Neil.”

Andrew paused, choosing his words carefully. “Are you sure it was him specifically? I assume that there are others similar to him; same models.”

Wymack had started shaking his head as soon as Andrew began speaking. “Don’t play dumb. You know that there _aren’t_ other ‘bots like Neil. I’ve been all over this thrice blasted planet and there was only one place I ever saw technology that even comes _close_ to him.”

He wasn’t wrong. Robots were common, but they were mostly mindless servants and rarely resembled humans. Then there were the clockwork automatons. They had initially been designed for infiltration, but they’d spectacularly failed at that. Andrew had come across one or two and it was impossible for their robotic movements, dead eyes, and audible clockwork gears to ever be mistaken for a human. They usually served as security for the extremely wealthy. He knew of no robot that was capable of running around under its own recognizance. Neil was different. His skin may be synthetic and his insides metal and wires, but he displayed emotions, showed adaptive programming, and was as different from the clockwork variety of ‘bots as they were from humans. As far as Andrew knew, he was completely unique. Very few people even knew that he wasn’t human; it wasn’t common knowledge.

Wymack was one of the few. “Look, I’ve never asked where you found him; Hell, I don’t even know if you stole him—”

“He’s not a thing.”

“But these people that were here, these strangers, they were looking for him. And claiming that he was their property.”

“He’s not.”

“I don’t think they agree with that statement.”

“Then I will make them.”

“I didn’t recognize them,” Wymack continued, “and you know that none of my people would ever give them information about one of their own.”

“But not everyone in Palmetto are your people.”

“Exactly. And there are more than a couple people in town who have their suspicions about him.”

“Are the strangers still here?”

Wymack shook his head. “Took off a couple weeks ago. I think they know that he’s travelling on the _Monster_, though. Keep your eyes open.”

“You figure out who they were?”

“Not definitively, but I’ve got my suspicions. As I said, I’ve only seen comparative technology in one place before and that was Ancient tech. And you know who owns the most Ancient tech...”

“Moriyamas,” said Andrew. He wanted to growl. He already didn’t like the Moriyamas and for them to try to lay a claim on Neil…

“There’s something else,” said Wymack, not sounding happy. “Neil isn’t the only thing they’re looking for.”

“What else do they want?”

Wymack glanced around, double checking that his private office was still secure. Then he reached under his shirt, bringing out the leather cord that always hung around his neck. There was a pendant on the cord, a strange looking metallic rectangle. Wymack split it into two with skilled fingers and handed the larger, loose part to Andrew. “This,” he said.

Andrew turned it in his hands, examining it closely. He saw now that Wymack hadn’t broken the rectangle, it was designed to come apart. The piece he held had a part on the end that fit into the other, like a plug. “What is it?” he asked.

“It’s Ancient tech,” said Wymack. Andrew hummed in interest. Some Ancient tech could be used as it was found, some repurposed. Some, like the seedy that he’d bought so that Kevin couldn’t, was completely useless. “It’s called an usbee.”

“Usbee,” repeated Andrew. “What does it do?”

“It stores information,” said Wymack. “Information that can be read by their computers.”

“Like a seedy,” nodded Andrew. “We can read it?”

“With one of their working computers. There are only a couple that I know of.”

“Let me guess. The Moriyamas own them.”

“Got it in one.”

“So why are they looking for this?” Andrew handed the silver usbee back to Wymack, who reattached it to the leather cord and hid it under his shirt again.

“You know that Kayleigh Day and I used to go on scavenging expeditions to the Barren Continent?”

“Kevin talks about it all the time. He sounds like a cheap romance novel: the brilliant ingenue and the swashbuckling pirate, braving the wilds of the Barren Continent for the pursuit of archaeological discovery.” Andrew put on his best radio announcer voice. It was the type of wireless program that he and Aaron had liked to listen to as children whenever they were able to pick up a signal.

Wymack scoffed. “More like megalomaniacal tyrants fund a mission across the sea for greed and I was young, stupid, and arrogant enough to think that nothing could kill me.”

“Unless I’m mistaken, you’re still alive.”

“Not all of me,” said Wymack enigmatically. “Anyway, on one of our trips we found this.” He patted his chest. “It was a matched pair: one usbee held encrypted files, the other held the encryption key.”

Andrew could see where this was leading. “You took one, Kayleigh took the other?”

Wymack nodded. “We argued over what we should do with them. It seemed like the best compromise.”

“Why did you argue? Did you know what was in the encrypted files?”

“Not… exactly. There was an Ancient computer that was miraculously still functional—that’s how we found out what the usbees were and what was on them. We only got a glimpse, but I got the impression that it was blueprints for some kind of weapon.”

“A weapon? Weapons can be useful.”

“They can also be dangerous and deadly in the hands of enemies. Like, say, the Moriyamas. Who now own Kayleigh’s usbee.”

“Then destroy it,” said Andrew. “If they can only be used together and you’re worried about the Moriyamas getting their hands on it, why don’t you just break yours into tiny pieces?”

Wymack was clearly conflicted. “Because Ancient tech is rare and some of it is miraculous and amazing,” he said. “Because I don’t _know_ its a weapon; what if it isn’t? What if it is something that could help make millions of people’s lives better?”

“How is it going to help anyone, strung around your neck?”

“That’s where you come in,” said Wymack.

“Oh, this ought to be rich.”

“If anyone can find out where Kayleigh’s usbee is and steal it back, it’s you. You’re talented and experienced and you have Kevin and Neil on your crew. You get Kayleigh’s usbee and we’ll use the two of them together and see what data is stored on them. If it’s something that shouldn’t be unleashed on the world, we’ll destroy them. If it isn’t…”

“You’re an incurable optimist, has anyone ever told you?”

“Yes, but they didn’t say it in such an insulting tone.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“A couple things,” said Wymack. “If it is something useful that can be fabricated and marketed, I’ll give you your fair share of the profits. Secondly, this will give you a chance to look into the Moriyamas to see if they’re the ones after Neil. And eliminate them if they are.”

Andrew sat back in contemplation. “That’s why you told me that there’s someone after Neil? So I’ll agree to get Kayleigh’s usbee back?”

“No,” said Wymack in exasperation. “I informed you that people are after you because I actually care about what happens to you, you miserable little gremlin.”

“The fact that it makes me want to burn the Moriyamas to the ground is just a happy side effect?”

“Get the usbee first,” said Wymack. “Then torch the lot of them for all I care.” His face shifted slightly. “Does Neil know how ridiculously attached to him you are? How’d he ever earn your complete devotion, anyway? You were the most closed-off person I’d ever met before he appeared.”

“Oh, you know,” said Andrew idly, “those that slay together stay together.”

Wymack shook his head. “You’re a little terrifying, you know that?”

Andrew displayed one of his rare smiles. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to think that I’m becoming soft.”

#### Five years previously

##### KASHMIR, YEAR 1419 NE, OCTOBER

The first time Andrew ever set eyes on Neil he was stealing a piece of Ancient tech—a piece of Ancient tech that _Andrew_ was supposed to be stealing. Andrew couldn’t get a good look at his face as it was obscured with a bandana, but his eyes had glittered at Andrew’s approach.

“You must be Andrew Minyard,” he’d said. “You have quite the reputation.”

“And you are a nobody,” Andrew had replied, not liking how off guard he’d felt. Nicky had control of the building’s surveillance systems, he should have _warned_ Andrew that there was someone else here.

“A nobody who got the drop on you,” Neil had replied. “Better luck next time.” Then he’d flicked Andrew a salute and hit a button on his belt, retracting the wire that he’d used to rappel down into the room. He’d lifted up and away, just as an alarm began to sound. Andrew had managed to get out without getting caught, but the memory of the thief stayed with him.

They’d met again a few months later, only that time the positions were reversed. Neil didn’t seem overly concerned, cheerfully asking Andrew if he’d be willing to give up his bounty. Andrew wasn’t. He’d shot at Neil, who neatly dodged and swore when one of the bullets hit him. To Andrew’s surprise, he hadn’t appeared to be hurt.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he’d said instead, before disappearing and leaving Andrew alone with his haul.

After that they’d started meeting frequently. Asking around provided Andrew with his name, Neil, and the knowledge that he’d only recently appeared on the scene. No one knew how he got around, none of the aviators he spoke with would admit to transporting him, but he kept showing up at the same places as Andrew and generally being a nuisance. The types of contracts Andrew took from his underground contacts were usually offered to more than one person to increase the chances of success, but he didn’t believe in coincidences. There was no way that Neil kept showing up where he was through chance alone.

Andrew found himself looking forward to their meetings. Sometimes Andrew came out the better in their confrontations, sometimes Neil. Usually they exchanged a couple minutes of banter before heading their separate ways. The _Monster_’s income was taking a hit, losing out on so many scores to the seemingly single-man operation. It was frustrating, but even more frustrating was Andrew’s interest in the other man. Or robot, he should say. It had taken him a while to work it out, puzzling through many seemingly-disconnected clues, but he knew now why his single bullet hadn’t hurt Neil. The knowledge should have made him wary but it only served to further interest him. He’d never met or even heard about a robot as advanced as Neil, one that was virtually indistinguishable from a human unless you knew what you were looking for.

Today he wasn’t worried about running into Neil—or was it that he was disappointed that he wouldn't? The job that had sent the _Monster_ to Kashmir was something Wymack had offered, so Andrew was certain it was exclusive. Wymack only ever sent out his trusted few on errands for him.

It was a simple meetup: someone was offering to sell Wymack some valuable information, but they wanted a face-to-face meeting with one of his lieutenants. Or, in Andrew’s case, face-to-mask. Andrew’s lungs had not improved as he aged, even after he’d escaped the smog-filled streets of Shanghai. They were fine when he was in the sky, the clean air giving him no problems, but whenever he landed he wore a breathing mask. It was somewhat annoying, but he did like that it added an inhuman aspect to his character. Along with his red targeting goggles he made a fearsome spectre against anyone who opposed him.

He passed through Kashmir’s streets toward the bar where the meet-up was arranged. He was both surprised and not when a familiar figure dropped to the ground in front of him as he cut through an alley. Neil’s face was uncovered for once, his familiar bandana instead covering his distinctive reddish hair. It was the first time that Andrew had caught a glimpse of him without it and he was so distracted by the sharp lines of his face and tiny freckles and frankly ridiculous eyelashes that he almost didn’t notice what he was wearing. He was dressed sharply, in a leather duster, and fashionable but practical dark clothing.

He was dressed, in short, exactly like Andrew. If his duster had been black instead of brown, they would have been twins. He even had his own breather mask dangling around his neck.

“What,” was all Andrew could say.

Neil grinned at him, which did not cure Andrew’s speechlessness.

“Did you know you’re walking into a trap?” he asked.

Andrew brought his gun up to point at Neil’s heart, something he should have done as soon as Neil had appeared. He cursed his foolish lapse in judgment. “How do you know where I’m going?”

“How do I know anything?” asked Neil, taking a step forward so the muzzle of Andrew’s gun was pressed to his chest.

“I couldn’t say.”

“This time, it was eavesdropping,” said Neil brightly. “I worked a job out of here recently; one of the guys was talking about how Hawking was planning on getting one over on Wymack. Taking out one of his trusted allies.”

“I am not so easy to kill.”

“True, but I think you know that I’m even harder to kill.”

“So you’re offering what? Bodyguard services?”

“Body_swap_ services,” said Neil. “Hawking’s never seen your actual face, has he?”

“Few people have.”

Neil nodded and swatted at the breather mask around his neck. “With my hair covered, he won’t know the difference.”

“Why.”

Neil shrugged. “I would miss you if he somehow succeeded,” he said. “No one else swears at me so eloquently. Also, I want fifty percent of whatever you’re getting paid for this.”

“Ten.”

“Sixty.”

“That’s not how negotiating works.”

“Is it not? Silly me.”

“Twenty,” said Andrew. “My crew and I split pay equally.”

“Even if you’re not doing equal shares of the work?” asked Neil. “And I’m not on your crew.”

“I only work with people who are.”

“So, what are you saying? You’ll only let me save your life if I promise to fly off into the sunset with you afterwards?” He batted his eyes. “Romantic,” he stage-whispered.

Andrew ignored him. “You’ve proven not completely incompetent. Think how much more money we could make if we weren’t always stealing each other’s spoils.”

“You have a point,” said Neil thoughtfully. “And being on an airship would allow me more freedom in travel…”

“How do you travel now?” asked Andrew. He’d always wondered.

Neil tapped the side of his nose. “Trade secret.” He hummed. “Alright, we’ll give it a trial run. Now, though, I’ve got a meeting to get to.” He shrugged off his coat and held it out. “Switch with me and you can stake it out.”

Andrew paused for a couple seconds before handing his own duster over. He wasn’t quite sure why he was going along with Neil’s plan. He knew almost nothing about Neil except that he was a nuisance and he had a pretty face. He chastised himself for being very, very gay.

Neil looked at him critically. “Do you have a less obtrusive breather mask?” he asked.

“I’ll take it off once I get inside,” said Andrew, again yelling at himself inside his own head. Taking off his mask made him more vulnerable. If he ended up dying from this it was his own stupid fault. He’d definitely thought he was smarter than this. Instead of listening to his own very good advice, he passed over his targeting goggles to help Neil complete his disguise.

He followed Neil at a safe distance on the way to the bar, waiting a couple minutes after he disappeared to enter the building. Then he pushed his way inside, averting his face until he got his mask off. He focused on breathing evenly, counting his inhales and exhales to stop himself from choking on nothing. Sauntering through the crowd, he took a seat at the bar, one which had a good view of the table where Neil sat across from an unfamiliar man who must be Hawking. He was huge, bigger even than Matt Boyd who had a foot and a half of height on Andrew. Unlike the reed-thin Boyd, Hawking was wide and thickly muscled. He looked like he could pick Neil up and crush him like an aluminum can.

“Minyard,” said Hawking. “You’re who Wymack sent?”

“Evidently,” replied Neil, his voice husky and distorted through the mask.

“I find it hard to trust a man who never shows his face.”

“That seems like your problem, not mine.”

“I can make it your problem,” said Hawking menacingly.

Neil flicked his fingers dismissively. Andrew’s eyes narrowed at the performance. He wasn’t this dramatic, was he?

“Your boss wants the information I can provide about supply routes and shipments,” said Hawking.

“My boss wants a lot of things,” shrugged Neil.

Hawking scoffed and cracked his knuckles. “I could crush you like a bug.”

“Possibly,” allowed Neil. “But then you won’t get paid.”

Hawking forcibly relaxed his hands. “We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” he said. “Take your mask off and have a drink with me as a show of good faith.”

Neil paused and cocked his head, before slowly unbuckling his mask and sliding off his goggles. “I only drink top-shelf whisky,” he said. “You’re buying.” Without the mask it was obvious to Andrew that he was trying to imitate his voice. As he’d never actually heard it without interference, he was doing a poor job.

Hawking scowled, but raised his hand to signal the server. Andrew eyed the bottle of liquor that was brought over to them with barely concealed envy. The swill he was drinking had nothing on what they were having.

Hawking poured two generous glassfuls, pushing one closer to Neil.

“_Na zdorovie_,” said Neil, raising the glass.

Hawking stared at him stupidly. Neil rolled his eyes, clinked their glasses together, and downed the amber liquid in two mouthfuls.

Hawking drank slower, as if to savour his drink. He was watching Neil carefully, clearly waiting for something.

“More?” said Neil idly, topping up both their glasses. He tossed his own back and watched Hawking intently until Hawking followed suit. Neil then filled their glasses again.

“I don’t think…” said Hawking.

“Come now, don’t be rude,” said Neil, topping up Hawking’s glass even further. “You’re the one who wanted to drink with me. So _drink_.”

Hawking’s eyes were already glassy, but Neil kept forcing more and more alcohol into him. His words, protests mostly, kept slurring together.

“You should be dead,” he mumbled.

“Probably, but it won’t be _you_ who kills me,” said Neil. “Now tell me, what exactly do you want with Wymack?”

“Too powerful,” slurred Hawking. “Not everyone likes it. Weaken his control.”

“By killing me?”

“I poisoned your glass. You _should be dead_,” reiterated Hawking. He stood up, swaying on his feet. He reached for Neil, pulling him out of his chair. It looked like he was going to punch him, but instead he collapsed into a heap on the floor. Neil brushed off his coat fastidiously. He glanced around the bar; most people were avoiding looking at him.

“Let this be a lesson to you all,” he said loudly. “Tell your friends. _This_ is what happens when you try to double cross Andrew Minyard.”

He met Andrew’s eyes briefly and surreptitiously winked. Andrew’s chest throbbed in response. _This_, he thought, was going to be a problem.

##### CAIRO, YEAR 1424 NE, APRIL

Kevin was disappointed when Andrew told him that they weren’t headed to Bangkok after their brief stay in Palmetto, but a dreamy smile had overtaken his face when he’d said they were going to Cairo instead.

“Jean,” he said softly.

“Yes,” said Andrew. “I need to speak with him.”

At this, Kevin had sharpened a little. “Why? He doesn’t like you.”

“Few people do,” Andrew pointed out. “And I need to ask him some questions about the Moriyamas.”

Kevin paled. “He won’t tell you anything,” he warned.

“He will,” said Andrew. “And you will, too, if you know what’s good for you.”

Kevin had been quiet and petulant after that. Added to the fact that Neil was still annoyed at Andrew meant that the first few days of their journey west had been filled with passive aggressive comments and sullen silences.

Even after Andrew had explained that he’d left Neil behind at Wymack’s request, Neil hadn’t been happy with him since he was of the erroneous opinion that he could look after himself. His annoyance hadn’t abated by the time Andrew dragged him to see Bee; conversely it seemed to have increased. He’d forgotten again that he was having memory problems and he viewed Andrew’s insistence on the visit as more evidence of Andrew needlessly coddling him.

Bee hadn’t been certain what was wrong with Neil but she did agree that something wasn’t right. She’d suggested that it just might be junk data that was clogging up his neural net—there was a reason that most robotic brains were regularly wiped, after all. They started glitching if they were left to run for too long. Andrew had told her that if she tried to wipe Neil’s memory banks he would break her fingers. She hadn’t been phased or intimidated by his threats, having known him for a long time. She assured him that she had no intention of wiping Neil, anyway. He wasn’t a simple ‘bot; he was much more complex.

She’d performed some scans, which turned up a couple irregularities. Neil had outright forbidden her from opening up his systems to look at what was causing the blips on the scans, leaving them at an impasse.

“You can open my head and mess with it as soon as I forget who Andrew is, and not a second before,” he said. “Until then, stay away from me.” Which had been the end of that.

Within a few hours Neil had forgotten the whole conversation, but he retained the knowledge that Andrew had forced him to see Bee and wasn’t happy about it.

All in all, Andrew was incredibly glad when they landed in Cairo’s air-dock west of the city. He was looking forward to getting the meeting with Moreau over with.

Moreau ran a salvage shop in a quiet corner of the western market. Andrew had always liked the Cairo market, despite the crowds. He’d always been able to find interesting things among the many colourful stalls. He was less fond of the set-up: market stalls lined the narrow, winding streets, giving everything a close-packed claustrophobic feel. Vendors accosted anyone and everyone trying to sell their wares. Andrew ignored them. It wasn’t as hard for him as it was for others to walk through the crowd unmolested since his breather mask and goggles made people uneasily make room for him.

Neil was at his left shoulder, like usual. He felt the other man reach out and lace their fingers together. Andrew squeezed his hand, happy that Neil wasn’t sore at him any longer and that he wouldn’t get lost in the crowd.

They passed through the stalls selling delicacies; Neil didn’t eat but he still liked to look at the strange food that was for sale. There were fried grasshoppers, big and juicy, and little black worms that popped and crunched when you bit into them. Andrew even caught sight of something that could be real animal meat—rat, he guessed, or maybe desert-gopher. His mask filtered out scent, but he could see people’s gazing with hunger in the direction of the grill.

The next few stalls held a collection of Ancient relics, most smooth and sand-blasted from how long they had been lost in the desert. Andrew caught sight of plastique figurines displayed along the front of a stall, their original shapes mostly undecipherable, but some almost intact. He saw a form he recognized: Mickey, the mouse-shaped god of Old America. Kevin collected any keepsakes he could find that showed the deity; if they didn't run into trouble Andrew would buy him one of the figurines after their business was completed.

Andrew didn't have high hopes for staying out of trouble; he'd felt eyes on him ever since he'd stepped off the _Monster_.

“We're being followed,” said Neil in a low voice.

Andrew fought his instinct to start craning his neck to catch sight of their pursuers.

Neil shook his head discreetly. “I haven't got a good look at them, only flashes on the edges of my vision. There are at least two, maybe more.”

Andrew cut down an alleyway, leading them to the salvage district. Usually they spent a lot of time browsing here for useful ship parts or anything that could be used to patch up Neil or Kevin's arm, but they didn't have time for that today. They quickly passed the stalls that were nothing more than buckets of nuts and bolts, the stalls that sold synskin in all different shades, and the stall that had several gleaming black and silver motorbikes parked outside of it. The last one in particular made Andrew's heart pang. He'd always wanted a motorbike, but they were far too impractical to bring aboard an airship. He could spend hours looking at them and going over the specs. He had done exactly that more than once in the past, while Neil sat by and watched him with an expression of mixed exasperation and fondness.

Moreau's store was across the street from the motorbikes. It was nothing to look at, just a shabby wooden door set in a shabby, nondescript storefront. Past it, Andrew could see the river, and the three mounded islands within. Andrew hadn’t understood why they were called the Pyramid Islands until Kevin had haughtily explained that they were once man made monuments: giant pyramids that had been ancient even when the Ancients still lived here. They’d been damaged in the war, the one that had occurred after the Barren Continent became unliveable and the volcanic winter had made the poles so cold that they couldn’t sustain life. All the Ancients had travelled to the already-occupied more temperate regions and a seemingly-endless series of wars over resources had begun.

Andrew pointed out that this still didn’t explain why the Ancients had built their pyramids in the middle of a river. Kevin’s disdain for his lack of intelligence had been palpable. The river’s course had changed since their creation, he’d explained snippily.

Unexpectedly, Kevin was waiting for them outside of Jean’s store. Andrew had been certain that he'd get distracted by the market on his way here.

“We saw some almost-intact Mickey idols,” Neil said when he saw Kevin.

Kevin visibly wavered before standing firm. He was probably here to protect Moreau. Andrew didn't know why he bothered. He'd never once been able to change Andrew's mind or curb his behaviour. Of course Kevin was both arrogant and vain; in his mind he was probably the hero of their story, able to control Andrew through passionate speeches.

Andrew ignored him and pushed his way into the store, still holding Neil's hand. A cheerful bell signalled their entrance.

“Moreau,” said Andrew, addressing the man behind the counter.

“Minyard,” replied Jean warily.

The man seemed to do everything warily. He was skinny and coltish but tall, giving him the impression of being stretched out. His hair, skin, and eyes were all the colour of wet mud and his back was stooped, as if he was hoping that by making himself smaller no one would notice him. Although he'd spent years in the north in the service of the Moriyamas, Andrew knew he'd been born not too far from Cairo, farther west where Fresperanto was commonly spoken.

Jean’s eyes travelled to Andrew’s companions, softening slightly when he caught sight of Kevin. When he got a good look at Neil his eyes widened and then snapped back to Andrew.

“You should not have brought it here,” he hissed, coming around the counter.

That was not what Andrew was expecting. He braced for an attack but Jean pushed by them, locking the door to his shop and turning his sign from open to closed. He surveyed the street before turning back to them.

“Kevin, what are you doing with _that_?” he demanded.

Kevin looked to Andrew briefly for help. “What’s wrong with Neil?”

“Neil?” repeated Jean. “_This_ is the Neil you have told me about, your crewmate who knows so much about mechanics?”

“Yes?” said Kevin sounding completely baffled.

“Since when?”

“Since always.”

“I knew you were reckless, but to steal from the Moriyamas…”

“I wasn’t stolen from anybody,” said Neil hotly, clearly unhappy about being talked about as if he wasn’t a sentient being.

“Of course you were,” said Jean, waving a hand dismissively. “How do you think you got away from them?”

“I didn’t _get away_ from them,” said Neil. “I was never with them in the first place.”

Jean stared at him, his dark skin turning ashy as he paled. “_Sacre bleu_, you don’t know,” he said.

“What doesn’t he know?” said Andrew, deciding it was time to insert himself into the conversation.

“This thing you call Neil is a very advanced prototype that the Moriyamas have been searching for ever since it was taken from them. They’ll kill you all if they find out you have it.”

“Neil is not an _it_,” said Kevin. “He’s a person.” Jean raised an eyebrow, clearly in disagreement. “Sure, he may be made up of wires and circuit boards and synskin, but he’s still a person,” argued Kevin. “And people can’t be _stolen_.”

“That’s all very noble, Kevin, but the Moriyama family does not agree with you. They put a lot of money and resources into its—his, fine—creation and they weren’t happy when he disappeared.”

Andrew watched Neil’s reaction to these words. Neil had always been cagey about his past; Andrew had never been sure if he didn’t want to share or if he didn’t remember it himself. All Andrew knew was that Neil had appeared as if from nowhere six years ago and he’d been a loyal member of his crew for the past five. He’d always gotten the impression from the random bits of information that Neil had dropped over the years that Neil’s memory didn’t extend back much beyond their first meeting. He wasn’t sure if that was because Neil had undergone a memory wipe or if he’d only been functional for that amount of time.

From the minute expression on Neil’s face, Andrew surmised that he had no idea that the Moriyamas had any claim on him; however, he seemed perfectly aware that he had been taken from _someone_.

“They’re looking for him,” said Jean. “I’d thought they’d given up as no trace of him has ever been found. I’ve heard rumours recently that there were scouts out searching for Moriyama property but I didn’t know it was _him_.” He turned on Kevin. “And I certainly didn’t know that he’s been with _you_ all this time.”

“How do you know Neil’s what they’re looking for?” asked Andrew.

“I’d recognize him anywhere,” said Jean haughtily. “He looks exactly like his father.”

There was a brief stunned silence.

“I don’t have a father,” said Neil, although there was something about his tone that made Andrew think he was lying.

“Maker, then,” said Jean. “They call him the Butcher because of his research. He spent years trying to make an artificial army for the Moriyamas; he tried to animate dead bodies, tried to modify living people, all in the pursuit of the perfect soldier. All so he could make you.”

“This is unimportant,” Andrew cut in. Neil’s expression had become completely unreadable, while Kevin gaped at him in shock. “It doesn’t matter. Neil doesn’t belong to anyone but himself and I’m not going to let anyone take him away.” He spoke with conviction. “That’s not why we’re here, anyway. Wymack sent us on an errand,” he told Jean, “to steal something from the Moriyamas.”

“Then you’re even stupider than I thought and I’ve always been of the opinion that your arrogance made you one of the stupidest people alive.”

“Andrew, are you really sure we should be taking Neil _closer_ to the Moriyamas?” said Kevin, trying his best not to sound panicked.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to him,” said Andrew stubbornly.

“But surely we should avoid drawing their attention?”

Andrew gave Kevin a level look. “Are you sure it’s not your own fear of the Moriyamas that’s the problem here?”

“What if they try to take me back?” whispered Kevin.

“They left you for dead,” said Andrew, in what he considered a reasonable manner. “Why would they even want you?”

“Last time you ran into Riko he didn’t want you back,” said Neil. “He cut off your hand instead, remember?”

“This is not about me,” said Kevin.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” said Andrew. “Listen to me. We are going to get the usbee that Wymack wants and I am not going to let anything happen to either you or Neil. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” said Kevin grumpily.

“Do you trust me?” This question was aimed at Neil.

“Always.” The reply was instantaneous.

“Then stop wasting time.” He turned back to Jean, who was still giving him a wary and displeased glower. “We’re looking for some Ancient tech; the Moriyamas believe it has value so it’s probably well guarded. It’s about this big—” he demonstrated using his fingers “—and rectangular and silver in colour.”

“You _are_ aware that the Moriyamas have the largest collection of Ancient tech in the world?” Jean replied dryly. “They have warehouses of the stuff.”

“We’ll search the warehouses if we have to, but this is something valuable. Something Kayleigh found.”

Kevin shuddered at the mention of his mother.

“I never saw anything like that,” said Jean. “But—”

“But you’d definitely tell us if you had,” drawled Andrew.

“I was going to say, but if it was as important as you say, it’s probably either well guarded or well hidden or both.”

“Hidden where? Guarded where? You must have some idea where they might keep something like I described.”

“Why, because they owned me? I was property to them, not someone to entrust with information.”

“They never thought you’d leave; it’s not like they foresaw your rescue. Your rescue by those who work for Wymack, must I remind you? It was Renee, wasn’t it, who helped you fake your death? She’s the reason why you’ve been able to live in peace.”

The glass window at the front of the store shattered as something was thrown through it. They all dove for cover, shielding themselves from the glass. A grenade started spewing out thick, grey smoke.

Neil recovered first, not being affected by pain from the glass shards or the smoke. He picked up the grenade and tossed it back through the window. By then, bullets were pinging off the outside of Jean’s shop. Neil ducked beside the window and started returning fire.

“Guess you’re not living in peace any longer,” remarked Andrew.

“You brought them here!” spat Jean.

“Then I’d better take care of them.”

He whistled once before tossing his loaded gun to Neil. Neil caught it without turning to look, and threw his almost empty firearm back to Andrew. Andrew reloaded it and took inventory of his arsenal.

“How many?” he asked.

“I see at least four,” said Neil. “And they’re better trained than the goons we’re usually up against. These guys aren’t just standing out in the open like helpful targets.”

Kevin grunted in annoyance, crab walking over to Andrew. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

“Shoot them. Escape on the _Monster_,” said Andrew. That was their usual plan for hostility they didn’t want to deal with.

“What about Jean?”

“What _about_ Jean?”

“We’re the ones who led them to his door,” said Kevin.

“And got my shop destroyed,” added Jean.

“Let him come with us,” pleaded Kevin. “He’s not safe here.”

“I am not going north with you maniacs,” snapped Jean. “I will not be taken closer to Moriyama-controlled areas.”

“We’ll drop you off somewhere safe,” said Kevin. He gave Andrew a pleading look. “Won’t we?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Fine,” he said shortly. “We can finish our discussion once we’re safely out of here.” He pulled his radio off his belt. “Nicky,” he said.

“Andrew, I just saw the _cutest_ dog. Can we get a dog?” gushed Nicky, his voice crackling through the radio.

“We have Kevin.”

“That’s not the—wait, it that… is that gunfire? What did you guys _do_?”

“Get the _Monster_ ready for launch,” said Andrew, not bothering to explain. “ETA less than 20.”

“How are we possibly going to get there in less than twenty minutes?” griped Kevin.

Andrew whistled and exchanged guns with Neil again.

“Down to three,” said Neil. “Although I think they brought some friends. So maybe six.”

Andrew looked out the ruined window at the street beyond. No bystanders were milling around anymore, everyone being smart enough to make themselves scarce during the sudden, unexpected shootout. He nodded toward the abandoned motorbike vendor across the street. “I have an idea,” he said.

##### TROY, YEAR 1424 NE, APRIL

For some reason Jean had not been particularly happy about their escape from Cairo, which Andrew didn’t understand at all. He was incredibly grateful for his picture-perfect recall, since he could now revisit the memory of zooming through the streets of Cairo’s market on a motorbike, Neil holding on to him tightly while shooting their pursuers and laughing happily. He could already tell that it was going to be one of his favourite memories to revisit.

Nicky and Aaron hadn’t let them down, having the _Monster_ ready to go as they screeched into port. Andrew had been disappointed to leave the motorbike behind, but even that disappointment had been tempered by the sight of one of the _Monsters_ rockets hitting the Moriyama lackey’s airship and watching as it, and many surrounding airships, went up in flames.

Of course, Andrew highly doubted that any of them would ever again be welcome within one hundred kilometres of Cairo’s city limits. Perhaps that was why Jean was so sour with them; he _had_ been living his life there.

Oh, well. Now he could live his life here. Their quick exit meant that the _Monster_ hadn’t been able to refuel so they made the short trip across the Mediterranean to the walled city of Troy. Andrew liked Troy. It had old bones, having been built on top of a destroyed city that had been built on a destroyed city that had been built on a destroyed city. It was like a weed that couldn’t tell it wasn’t wanted and Andrew reluctantly respected its tenacity.

Also, the mayor was an old friend of Wymack’s and provided safe harbour for his associates. He didn’t think that any of their pursuers had followed them, but even if they had the Trojans would keep them out. According to Kevin there was an ancient legend about Trojans being tricked into foolishly letting their enemies through their walls but if it were true they’d learned their lesson. It was notoriously hard to get into the city that towered over the Aegean Sea.

Not that Andrew cared much about him, but he knew that Jean would be safe here. Kevin had a lover here (unsurprisingly; Kevin had a lover in every port they regularly visited) named Jeremy who had agreed to house Jean and help him get back on his feet. Nicky had teased that Kevin was going to lose the two of them to each other, but Kevin hadn’t seemed worried.

“Now I have twice as much to look forward to when we visit Troy,” he’d said cheekily, before disappearing into Jeremy’s house with the two of them and not emerging until the next evening.

They weren’t Wymack’s only affiliates in town. Nicky caught sight of the orange-and-white striped balloon of the _Vixen_ as they made port. He screeched happily and went tearing off to find Aaron who had been having regular liaisons with the captain of the _Vixen_.

Andrew usually pretended he hated her, but he was actually quite fond of Katelyn. She wasn’t afraid of him and had once successfully cheated him at cards. So few people had managed it over the years that the ones who did earned his undying respect. Renee, one of the crew of the _Upper Class_, and Neil were the only others who’d managed it.

They found the crew of the _Vixen_ at one of Troy’s popular watering holes. Katelyn seemed to be holding court, keeping the greedy eyes of the establishment’s patrons focused solely on her. She was luminous and for a second, Andrew could almost see what Aaron saw in her. The fact that she was red-haired, blue-eyed, and sarcastic probably had something to do with his understanding. Andrew always pretended not to notice that he and Aaron had suspiciously similar taste in people, gender notwithstanding.

Katelyn was telling a raucous story, clearly embellishing the tale of her ship’s latest raid. She’d found a tricorn hat with an ostentatious feather somewhere and had perched it on her head at a jaunty angle.

“Minyard!” she called happily when Andrew stepped into the bar. “I didn’t know you were in these waters, you ugly son of a bitch. Where’s that gorgeous brother of yours?”

Andrew ignored her, as was his custom, and went to the bar to get a glass of whatever grog they had available. Troy was one of the rare cities that he didn’t feel the need to wear his breather mask off the ship, half because of the relatively clean air and half because he mostly felt at ease.

“Well, if it isn’t Captain Katelyn and her band of lady pirates!” cried Nicky from the doorway. Andrew could hear Aaron’s soft supplication that Nicky stop being so ridiculous.

By the time Andrew wandered back over to their table, Neil had already taken a seat with the _Vixen_ crew and had begun telling them the story of the daring escape from Cairo. Andrew hid a smug smile behind his tankard. Taking the motorbikes really had been one of his better ideas.

He took his own seat, keeping away from the centre of the table. He’d always preferred to observe from a distance, staying out of the spotlight. Aaron, after he got his own drink, sat beside him, his eyes bright as he watched Katelyn laughing at Neil’s story.

“Am I going to have to find a replacement for you?” asked Andrew sardonically, using derision to cover his dislike of Aaron’s eventual departure.

“I don’t know if I’d be comfortable aboard the _Vixen_,” said Aaron lightly. “Too many lesbians.”

“My good sir!” called Laila Dermott, Katelyn’s second-in-command, her voice mocking. “Bite your tongue! There’s no such thing as too many lesbians!”

The women around the table cheered and raised their glasses.

“I’ll trade ships with you, Aaron,” said Robin Cross, laughing along with the rest.

“I would have thought you’d be happy among lesbians,” said Andrew. He’d been the one to bring her into this life. She’d picked his pocket in Delhi, marking her out as both fearless and skilled, and disappeared into the crowd. It had taken him weeks but he’d eventually tracked her down. She’d been frightened but defiant when he’d cornered her, his mask and goggles making him easy for her to recognize. She’d sworn at him in a local language that he didn’t speak, and he’d told her that he knew a woman who had use for talent like hers.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am definitely pro-lesbian,” said Robin. “But Laila’s all loved up with Al, Katelyn’s hung up on your brother, and I’ve alienated both Carolina and Jill because each of them thought we were exclusive. I need more variety.”

“It’s not like there are women onboard the _Monster_ for you to seduce,” said Andrew.

“You guys spend a lot more time in different ports than we do,” said Robin. “We’re always either here or Palmetto. With you I could meet some foreign ladies.”

“You could copy Kevin and find someone different in every port,” said Aaron. “Have you really gone through everyone on the _Vixen_? I thought there were seven of you.”

“I love her, but Marissa’s as dumb as a post.”

“Marissa,” repeated Aaron. “You mean the one who’s currently trying to seduce Neil?”

Andrew looked over, and sure enough, the dark-haired woman was practically sitting in Neil’s lap. Neil was looking up at her steadily, completely nonplussed. It was funny that people called Neil oblivious, thought Andrew, he clearly knew exactly what Marissa was after. He’d shut her down effectively every time she’d made a pass at him but she kept coming back for more.

“That woman has the most unshakeable self-esteem of anyone I’ve ever met,” he commented.

Robin laughed. “The dumb ones always do,” she said. “She can’t conceive of a person who isn’t into her.”

“Even a gay robot?” said Aaron dryly.

“Aaron,” said Andrew, censuring. Broadcasting Neil’s non-human status was dangerous, especially now.

Aaron grimaced at the admonishment. Robin looked between the two of them before shrugging. She’d always been smart and knew better than to ask questions.

“Is Neil gay?” she asked instead. “I always thought he was Andrewsexual. I’ve never seen him even look at anyone else.”

“It’s complicated,” said Andrew.

“What in life isn’t?” she replied rhetorically.

Andrew lifted his glass to toast her and drained his drink.

The next evening, Nicky and Aaron were playing not-it to decide who had to go pry Kevin from the amorous arms of Jean and Jeremy when he showed up at the port ready to leave, a blissed-out expression on his face. Andrew looked up expectantly. He’d promised that he wouldn’t interrogate Jean as long as Kevin got some useful intel on where the Moriyamas might be keeping their valuable Ancient tech.

“He said that something like that probably would have been given to the Butcher for safekeeping,” said Kevin, with an unsubtle glance at Neil. “He suggested we head to Bavaria. Or, more accurately, he said that if we insisted on pursuing this suicidal and idiotic course of action, we may find useful information in Bavaria.”

“Bavaria it is,” said Andrew.

##### BAVARIA, YEAR 1424 NE, MAY

Neil, for all that he wouldn’t admit to knowing anything about the Butcher, seemed to have several ideas for where they may find useful information in the small towns that made up the loosely connected region of Bavaria.

Andrew knew very little about the western part of the main continent as the _Monster_ didn’t spend much time west of Troy, but Kevin liked to spout historical facts so he’d absorbed some knowledge just by proxy. He knew that this part of the world used to be quite wealthy, but it was completely devastated by creeping glaciers and war following the destruction of the Barren Continent. Their own advancement and technology had been part of their downfall when they’d loosed weapons that could level entire cities. Bavaria was now mostly pastoral, with areas of commerce that had more concentrated populations.

Neil’s tension was ratcheting higher the longer they stayed in the region, something which he wouldn’t explain to Andrew’s satisfaction. Andrew had always known that Neil couldn’t or wouldn’t be completely honest about what he knew about his origins and he had accepted that. Or he thought he had. Neil’s current behaviour made him feel like he was on the outside looking in, a novel experience for him with Neil. Added to the fact that Neil’s distress seemed to be aggravating his memory problems to the point that the others had started to take notice of them made Andrew hate Bavaria on principle.

Nicky, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He’d met a charming man on one of their first days in the region and had taken a shine to him. His name was Erik and he had actually proved quite useful, providing information about one of the Butcher’s properties that they had since infiltrated.

Still, they weren’t any closer to finding the piece of Ancient tech that they were looking for. Andrew had made the executive decision that they wouldn’t steal anything else, not wanting to alert the Butcher to their presence or cause him to increase his security before they’d found the usbee.

Not that there had been any evidence that the Butcher himself was nearby. Rumour in the local inns was that he often wasn’t here at this time of year, instead spending the warmer months in a Soviet research facility in the perpetually frozen north. On hearing about that research facility Neil had gone completely blank and unresponsive for several minutes. When Andrew finally gotten him to respond again he had forgotten the entire previous conversation.

All in all, things were not looking particularly rosy and everyone except Nicky was on edge. His dalliance seemed to keep him blissfully oblivious to the tension among the others.

There were only a couple more places to search before Andrew knew he’d have to make a decision. Either to go north, where fuel and ports and supplies were rare, or give up the search entirely.

“What do you know of this place, Baltimore?” asked Andrew. He and Neil were weaving through the crowded commerce area near the air docks.

“Hmm?” said Neil, again completely lost in his head. “What? Baltimore?” He shook his head, as if trying to loosen something inside of it. “It’s…” He sighed and stopped short. At least three people swore at him as they swerved to avoid running into him. “I know you think I’m hiding something,” he said, surprising Andrew. He hadn’t thought Neil remembered any of their recent discussions about this topic. “And I am, but I’m hiding it from me as much as I’m hiding it from you.”

“What do you mean?” asked Andrew cautiously.

“There’s something… something missing, or blocking what I know. I can tell that there’s something there, but it’s just… out of reach, like I can only get glimpses of it in my peripheral vision, you know? I can’t get it when I try.” The look he shot Andrew was imploring. “You believe me, don’t you? I’m not keeping anything from you on purpose; I trust you.”

“I know you do,” said Andrew, taking a step closer to him. “I wish you also trusted Bee.”

Neil’s brow wrinkled in confusion, before his eyes went wide and a shiver went up the back of Andrew’s neck. A quick survey of his surroundings told him that in the short time they’d been talking they’d been completely surrounded.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, Nathaniel,” said a middle-aged woman. She had dark hair that was twisted back into a neat bun, and was dressed in the type of coveralls that Abby and Bee always wore when working on machinery. The people with her were all men, dressed in a similar manner, holding weapons. One of the men caught Andrew’s eye immediately. Although much taller and broader, he had the same hair and eyes and facial features as Neil did. Andrew reached out to grab Neil’s elbow to pull him close. Neil was completely tense; his arm felt like rebar in Andrew’s grip. His eyes were wide and wary, darting between the people surrounding them.

“There’s no one here by that name,” said Andrew forcefully. He was armed and so was Neil but they were outnumbered and these people had cattle prods, which provided a shock strong enough to incapacitate even Neil.

“Junior,” said the man who looked like Neil. His expression was open as he gazed at Neil, full of grief.

“I don't know these people,” said Neil in an undertone.

Despite how quietly he had spoken, the woman heard him. She turned to the man who'd called Neil ‘Junior’ with a pinched expression. “If it’s already progressed to memory loss, Nathan, it’s worse than we thought. We have to act right away.”

“Quiet, Lola,” said Nathan sharply. “He doesn't know who we are and you're scaring him.”

It was true that Neil looked scared, something that Andrew had only seen a couple times before: once when Kevin had sustained the injury that severed his left forearm, and once when Andrew had been ambushed and had suffered a blow to the head that had left him bleeding and unconscious.

Nathan took a step toward Neil, his hand stretched out in supplication. Neil stepped closer to Andrew, hiding partially behind him.

Raising both hands to show he was unarmed, Nathan spoke calmly, as if to a feral animal, “My name is Nathan Wesninski,” he said, “and you are?” He was addressing Andrew but his eyes never left Neil. There was something like hunger in his gaze.

“I'm about ten seconds from shooting the lot of you,” said Andrew. The men surrounding them shifted uneasily and tightened their grips on their weapons. Andrew felt cornered; their cattle prods could knock Neil out and they'd probably stop Andrew’s heart.

Annoyance flashed across Nathan's face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. “How did you come to be in possession of this android?” he said. “We've been looking for him for some time.”

“Followed me home once,” shrugged Andrew. “I made the mistake of feeding him and then he was impossible to get rid of.”

“We don't have time for this thief's comedy routine,” said Lola.

“Patience,” muttered Nathan. “It will be easier if he hands Junior over willingly.”

“He's not going anywhere with you,” said Andrew.

“We're the only ones who can repair it,” snapped Lola. “It doesn't remember us; how bad has its memory gotten? We need to fix it before the damage is irreparable.”

“I'm not broken,” said Neil but the woman’s words gave Andrew pause.

“Ask your companion if he agrees,” said Lola.

Neil wheeled on him. His face shuttered when he saw Andrew's expression. “...Andrew?” he said quietly, sounding lost.

“We made him; we know him best,” said Nathan. “I'm an engineer; I've been studying artificial intelligence for my entire life. We were just on the cusp of a breakthrough when my son died.” His voice broke on the last word, his eyes grief-stricken and still staring at Neil. “It was hubris and foolishness, but I wanted him back so badly. I fashioned my work into his exact image. I never even realized how far I'd fallen until Junior was up and running.” He finally looked away from Neil, turning an imploring gaze to Andrew. “It wasn't until I looked into its eyes that I realized it was nothing but a machine wearing the face of my son. It would never be alive. I was a fool for thinking that I could get him back.” He shook his head. “I was going to fix my mistake: change his appearance and delete some of the subroutines that make him think he’s alive, but he was stolen before I could. One of the other researchers, my wife, was taken in by his appearance and mannerisms and kept treating him like he was our actual son. When she learned of my intentions she took him and disappeared. We’ve been looking for him ever since. Now we've found him; let us fix our mistake.”

“You’re not going to touch him,” said Andrew firmly.

“We’ll compensate you handsomely for your loss,” said Nathan.

“I'm not about to let you rewrite his personality.”

“It’s not a person!” interjected Lola. “It’s a highly advanced infiltration and misinformation android. It may have convinced you that it has feelings but it doesn't. Its programming means that it'll say anything to protect himself. It’s incapable of true loyalty or emotions. What, did it lead you to believe it was a real boy who loves you? It doesn't. It wanted access to your ship and its programmed to lie to get what it wants. It doesn't care about you; you owe it nothing.”

Neil was shaking his head. “Andrew that's not true, you _know_ that's not true,” he said quickly.

“And now it has brought out the puppy eyes,” said Lola. “It doesn't have emotions! It’s malfunctioning. It wasn't designed to go so long without clearing its data banks. It’s slowly losing both its short and long-term memory. Soon it’ll be unable to properly process any incoming data and it’ll become unhinged and unpredictable. You must have already seen some of the warning signs.”

“He's not meant to run continuously for so long,” said Nathan, sounding almost apologetic. “Whoever you think he is, he won't be for much longer. He was never yours to keep.”

Andrew looked from Neil's pleading eyes to the people surrounding them. Their arguments were persuasive and no matter how much he didn't want to believe them, he knew that something was wrong with Neil and had been for a while. “Alright,” he said, taking a step away from Neil. The men surrounding them all noticeably relaxed.

Neil's expression shattered, his hurt and betrayal written all over his face. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, he went completely blank, looking like he really was as incapable of feeling those emotions as Lola had claimed.

“Come along, Junior,” said Lola, sounding triumphant.

“Wait,” said Andrew, holding up his hand to ward her off. “I want to say goodbye.”

Lola rolled her eyes but Nathan nodded impatiently. He looked like someone who was on the cusp of being handed a prize that he had been anticipating for a long time.

Andrew caught Neil and pulled him close. Neil was still completely rigid, his eyes lifeless and devoid of emotion. It felt like touching a statue.

“It's for the best,” said Andrew, wrapping his arms around Neil’s unresisting and unresponsive body.

“Isn’t this touching,” sneered Lola.

Andrew ignored her. “Trust me,” he whispered.

He met Neil's eyes, not seeing the unfeeling machine that Nathan and Lola had described, but seeing Neil. Who was and had always been his home.

Neil nodded almost imperceptibly and the light went out of his eyes. Andrew pulled the pin out of the flashbang grenade he'd taken from Neil's belt when he'd hugged him, tossed it toward Nathan, and pressed his face into the side of Neil's neck to block out the worst of the flash.

He heard the explosion and then he heard nothing. Even with his face hidden, the flash was bright enough that he couldn’t see anything but a bright afterimage when he opened his eyes. The grenade was special made, an invention of Kevin’s. The damage to both sight and hearing was debilitating. Neil alone was immune if given the chance to briefly shut off his ocular and auditory sensors. He always carried them as a last resort.

Andrew felt Neil grab his arm and pull. He blindly ran where Neil guided him, trusting him completely to get them where they were going. His vision was slowly starting to return, allowing him to see darkish shapes on a bright background. He could tell that they were heading for the air docks.

By the time his vision returned completely, Neil was shoving him up and onto the _Monster_ as it completed its takeoff. His hearing was still completely shot, the world blanketed in heavy silence. He couldn’t even hear ringing.

Aaron met him on deck, his face screwed up in anger as he presumably yelled at him and Neil. Neil pushed past him, heading for the pilot’s cabin. Andrew made to follow him, to ensure that he knew that Andrew never even considered giving him to _those people_, not for a millisecond, but Aaron blocked him and pointed imperiously downward. Then, when Andrew didn’t react, he pointed to his own ears.

Andrew put a hand up to his left ear and it came away sticky with blood. Huh, he thought, that probably wasn’t good. At least the people who had tried to take Neil from him were probably all bleeding profusely as well.

He let Aaron lead him down into the crew room that they’d converted into a makeshift infirmary. Aaron was the closest thing they had to a medic; he was self-taught but the crew of the _Monster_ kept him in practice.

Andrew let Aaron patch him up. His hearing was getting better, he thought. He could hear his own breathing now, at least, even if it sounded weird and muffled inside his head.

He felt the _Monster_ bank sharply and wondered where Neil was heading. It would be smartest to head back to Troy, but if they were being followed then heading to the southern mountains may help them lose their pursuers.

He moved to leave the infirmary, but Aaron blocked him, saying something. His voice sounded like listening to a tuba underwater. Andrew had no idea what he was saying, but he assumed he was trying to prevent him from doing whatever he wished. Andrew admired his optimism; he'd never been successful in this undertaking before but he still tried.

“Mawp,” said Andrew, trying to stretch out his jaw like he did when he popped his ears at altitude. “Mawp, mawp, mawp.” The word echoed strangely in his head as he repeated it. He put a finger in his ear and wiggled it, hoping to improve his hearing.

Aaron slapped his hand away.

“I'm fine,” said Andrew. Aaron winced, either because Andrew was using excessive volume or because he sounded too much like Neil. “All better.”

Aaron gave him a flat look and said something.

Andrew squinted, trying to learn lip reading on the fly; unsurprisingly he didn’t succeed. It didn’t matter. He had a pretty good idea what Aaron had said anyway. “You said, ‘I'll let you go as soon as you can tell me what I just said,’” he guessed.

Aaron looked suspicious and gestured for Andrew to continue.

“...and then you said something disparaging about one of our crewmates.” It seemed like a safe assumption.

Aaron rolled his eyes but let Andrew out of the infirmary. He headed up to the flight deck, swaying a little from vertigo. He admitted that he may not be exactly as recovered as he'd led Aaron to believe. It was disorienting, being able to feel the engine vibrations through the floor but not being able to hear the familiar hum.

Neil was in the pilot's chair, making notations on their navigational charts and periodically checking their periscope.

He looked up when Andrew entered. He was still tense and wary and didn't soften like he usually did when he saw Andrew. He started saying something; Andrew waved him off and flashed one of their hand signals that they used when they had to be quiet while working together on heists. _All clear_, he signed and raised an eyebrow to indicate he was asking a question.

Neil shook his head emphatically. He pointed to the map, and then to his chest to indicate their position. Then he pointed at the map again, several kilometres away from the first position and made the sign for _enemy_. The _Monster_ was a fast ship, with more engine power than on most similarly-sized ships (Wymack had always said it was because Andrew had a death wish but it was really just because he liked going fast), but a larger ship running at full throttle would eventually overtake them. For Neil to be this concerned that must be the case. Added to the fact that they were travelling against the wind, meaning that even if they did stay in front of the larger ship, they'd definitely run out of fuel before it did. He'd only ever run out of fuel once before and although that time had worked out rather well for him personally he didn't want a repeat.

Neil pointed south to the mountain range where they could evade their pursuers and then farther south to what looked like a tiny island that held no significance to Andrew. He shrugged, not understanding what Neil was trying to convey.

Neil made their sign for _Follow me_, and that was easy enough to comprehend. Neil had a plan and he was asking Andrew to trust him. For Andrew, there was never a question of him doing so.

* * *

Andrew spent the next half hour of so humming to himself and making noises as his hearing slowly returned. Neil spent the same time completely ignoring him. He wasn’t sure if Neil was mad about the whole Andrew-agreeing-to-give-him-to-strangers-to-wipe-his-memory thing (which he shouldn’t be; Andrew had immediately proven that he was lying about letting them take Neil) or if he was considering Lola and Nathan’s words.

“I can hear again,” Andrew finally announced. “Neil, say something.”

“They were probably right,” Neil said, still not glancing in Andrew’s direction.

“Say something less stupid.”

Neil did look at him then. “You can’t deny that there’s something wrong with me. I have no memory of us discussing my memory lapses but you’re clearly aware of them.”

“Erasing your memory and changing your programming isn’t a viable solution.”

“You heard her; it’s going to keep getting worse until I become dangerously unstable. Maybe you should have let them take me.”

Andrew got to his feet and stalked over to where Neil was sitting. He cupped Neil’s face in his hands and tilted it back until he was looking up at him. “Never,” he said. “If you start burning down the world, I will give you lighter fluid. No matter what, I will always have your back.”

Neil’s expression broke a little. “_Why_? I’m not even human. You can’t even be sure that I feel any emotions.”

“Emotions are made by chemicals affecting our brains; it’s not that different from feedback in your neural net. Maybe you aren’t capable of feeling the exact same things as humans but I don’t believe for a second that you don’t feel anything. And even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter to me.”

Neil looked at him helplessly. For all that he was able to blank his expression, his face had always been an open book to Andrew. It couldn’t just be amazing imitation.

“Why?” Neil repeated.

“Because you’re Neil,” said Andrew. “We’re a team, a unit. We’ve always been better together.”

“Wow, this is kind of intense,” said an unfamiliar voice from the entrance to the pilot’s cabin. “I can come back later?”

Andrew turned, only to see Nicky’s most recent conquest who was not supposed to be on board; he was supposed to be back in Bavaria. He was a little sheepish when Andrew met his eyes.

“Nicky,” growled Andrew into the ship’s intercom. “I have a couple questions for you.”

#### Three years previously

##### OVER THE SAHARA DESERT, YEAR 1921 NE, JULY

Andrew was not sure exactly how they had managed to run out of fuel while flying over a giant expanse of sand with no help nearby, but he was pretty sure it was Kevin’s fault. Or Nicky’s. Most things that went wrong seemed to be because of one of them.

They weren’t in any trouble, really. All they had to do was wait for the natural air currents to push them north to radio range of a city, which could send out a tug to bring them to port. They’d get there eventually. The only problem was that it was fucking hot in the desert in July.

They were flying low, close to the ground, keeping out of the routes of other airships that would have taken advantage of their vulnerability. Unfortunately, that meant that the temperature on board was unbearable. The ship was well insulated, since it spent most of its time at high altitudes, and there were no cooling systems on board. The engines were completely shut down to avoid overheating (and also because somehow, _Kevin_, they were out of fuel).

Andrew had never liked the heat and had never handled it well. Sure, Shanghai had basically been a swamp when he was growing up, but that didn't mean he’d ever been happy about it and he’d long lost his heat tolerance. Nicky and Kevin were both fine in the heat but Aaron had the same problem as Andrew. They both turned completely red when exposed to the sun for any length of time, and even in the shade their faces were so flushed that they looked like red berries.

Neil was also suffering from the heat. He didn’t sweat but his skin was even hotter than the air temperature, his systems having nowhere to vent their excess heat. He’d taken to lying mostly naked on the metal deck plates to try to cool off, which Andrew in no way found distracting.

For the last year and a half since Neil had joined the crew, Andrew had been trying to ignore his attraction to him. He knew he wasn’t alone; lots of people expressed interest in Neil, enough that Andrew wondered if he’d been created specifically to be alluring. Neil was aware of this interest but clearly baffled by it. He had no interest in sex, it seemed. Andrew had tried to bury what was surely just a physical attraction but it had only gotten worse as he’d gotten to know Neil. He was sharp and witty and endlessly fascinating. When Andrew added his personality to his attractiveness, he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

“What are you doing?” asked Andrew, upon finding an almost-naked Neil lying on the floor of his cabin.

“Cooling off.”

“In my room?” Andrew wasn’t exactly opposed, and too hot and tired to do anything about it if he was. He removed his own shirt and lay on the floor beside Neil, far enough away that he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of him. He sighed in relief. It was much cooler on the metal deck plates.

He took advantage of the fact that Neil’s eyes were closed to study him from under his lashes. His chest was all scored and marked up in ways that Andrew wanted to trace with his fingertips. Neil didn’t bleed, obviously, and his skin didn’t heal. Synthetic skin was quite expensive and often difficult to get in the exact correct skin tone, so Neil saved it for fixing injuries on the parts of him that were usually visible. Otherwise, he did most of his own tune ups and maintenance and then raggedly sewed the skin back together. Andrew could see the wound near his heart where he’d once shot him. He didn’t feel guilty for having done so but thinking about it now made him feel a little sick.

“Staring,” said Neil, not opening his eyes or moving at all.

“‘M not,” muttered Andrew, too hot to put any effort into lying.

“You are,” replied Neil. “You look at me a lot.”

Andrew thought Neil hadn’t noticed but he knew that was just wishful thinking. Neil noticed everything but he generally didn’t comment on people’s behaviour when he didn’t feel threatened.

“Sorry,” Andrew said insincerely.

“Are you?”

“No.” He wasn’t sorry that he was attracted to Neil and he hadn’t particularly tried to stop himself from looking.

“Good,” said Neil. “I like it when you look at me.”

“Do you?” It surprised him a little, although he wasn’t sure why. Neil had never been shy about his likes and dislikes. Andrew had always suspected it was his own way of differentiating himself from the mindless robots that were everywhere. He’d never struck Andrew as particularly similar to them; his autonomy and emotions had always set him apart. As far as Andrew was concerned, he was a person.

“Yes,” said Neil. “I feel real when I’m with you.”

“You are real.” He didn’t understand the confusion. How could anyone possibly think that Neil wasn’t real? He was sure and solid, tangible under Andrew’s hands.

Neil smiled, small and shy, his eyes still closed. “I expected you to deny that you liked me.”

“Do I usually lie to you?”

“No,” said Neil, at last turning his head and opening his eyes. “You don’t.”

Andrew turned his head fully to the side so they were staring directly into each other’s eyes.

“I want to kiss you,” he said, barely louder than a whisper.

“You can.”

“But you don’t—”

“I don’t what?” Neil cut him off. “Associate you with safety? Want to be around you more than any other person in existence? Think about you all the time? Worry about you when you’re in danger?” He stopped and looked at Andrew steadily. “I know I’ve never been interested in kissing before but it’s different with you. I want to, with you.”

Andrew studied him.

“Only if you want to,” said Neil. “I know it’s weird that I’m a robot.”

“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you,” said Andrew, shrugging one of his shoulders. It’s not like he’d mind getting on his knees for Neil.

Neil threw back his head and laughed. The sound of it made sparks of desire go off in Andrew’s belly. It was times like these that he lost all doubts to Neil’s ability to feel and express emotions. This was too real to be simple mimicry.

“What a line,” said Neil. “Has that ever worked for you before?”

“I’ve never used it before,” said Andrew mulishly. “And I assume it’s going to work fine. You’re easy.”

“Am I?” said Neil, still amused.

“For me you are,” said Andrew confidently, as he finally, finally leaned in.

##### OVER THE SUNKEN CITY OF VENICE, YEAR 1424 NE, MAY

Nicky had been mostly smug when Andrew had confronted him about their new passenger. Erik, he claimed, had been looking for a career change and when he and Nicky had hit it off he’d decided to take to the skies. Their sudden departure from Bavaria meant that neither of them had actually bothered to ask if he could come. They were being chased so there wasn’t anywhere to drop him off, which annoyed Andrew to no end. The extra time gave Erik a chance to prove his usefulness and Nicky a chance to wear down Andrew’s resistance by incessant nagging, which meant that by the time they finally made port again he was probably going to reluctantly let Erik stay on board.

Assuming they weren’t dead by then.

They were still being pursued. Neil said the ship was definitely Nathan’s. It was bigger, faster, and (almost impossibly) had more impressive firepower than the _Monster_. They’d tried to use their smaller size to lose them in the mountain range south of Bavaria but, although they made some headway getting farther away from their pursuers, they hadn’t lost them. They were out of the mountains now, the sea sparkling as far as they could see. They were continuing south in order to enact the desperate part of Neil’s plan.

According to Neil, he had an uncle who was the administrator of an island in the sea to the south. It wasn’t his actual uncle, he explained, but the brother of Nathan’s wife who had been the one to steal Neil away from the Butcher. He wasn’t a big fan of Nathan and had vowed to kill him if they ever crossed paths again. Neil’s plan involved informing this uncle, Stuart Hatford, that Nathan was unlawfully entering his airspace and hoping that Hatford would take him out.

As far as plans went, it was fairly weak.

Their engines were running at maximum power as they had been for hours now, and were starting to make alarming noises. Kevin reported that they were dangerously low on fuel and that there was no guarantee that they’d make it to Hatford’s island.

“You should call Kevin up here,” said Neil, from where he was standing at the railing of the ship, looking down. “He’ll want to see this.”

Andrew joined him at the railing. He’d never flown this way before as it wasn’t one of the best routes for air traffic but he could see right away what Neil was talking about. They were flying over the sunken city of Venice. He could see the spikes of roof spires and the sunlight glittering off metal and glass just beneath the waves’ surface. Venice was one of the only still-intact Ancient cities, having been lost to the sea before the destruction that had overtaken the planet. It likely held priceless treasures and knowledge but there was no way to explore it under the water.

Kevin emerged on the flight deck, grease smeared on his cheek. “We can stay at full speed for another two hours, three at most,” he said drearily. He was sweaty and exhausted, not having slept for over thirty hours.

“You’re such a ray of sunshine,” said Neil. “Look: history!”

Kevin was struck dumb as he gazed downwards, his eyes both hungry and greedy for the sight below them. “Can we…?”

“Stop and take a look?” said Andrew. “Sure, why not? I don’t think we’ve got anything else pressing taking up our time right now.”

Kevin shot him a glare. “You spend too much time with Neil; you’re starting to sound like him.”

“No such thing as too much time with Neil,” said Neil, straightening. “I’m going to get on the radio, start broadcasting that Nathan Wesninski is heading into Hatford airspace.”

Andrew watched him disappear into the pilot’s cabin.

“Do you think his plan will work?” asked Kevin, leaning so far over the railing that Andrew gripped the back of his shirt to keep him from falling overboard.

Andrew didn’t answer. He knew that Kevin would understand what that meant.

* * *

“Any time now, Neil,” grumbled Aaron. He’d joined them in the pilot’s cabin, listening to Neil sending out the same message over and over again. Everyone else was also there; Kevin was the only one missing, as he was trying to get as much out of the engines as possible. Already they were slowing down, the large airship behind them visibly closer every time Andrew checked.

“I am trying,” grit out Neil. “I can’t _make_ Hatford appear.”

They waited in tense silence. Then—

“Attention airship _Butcher_,” came a tinny voice over the radio. “You are entering protected airspace. Turn back now or be obliterated.”

There was no answer from the _Butcher_, nor did they break off their pursuit.

“Look!” said Nicky, pointing straight ahead.

Andrew squinted but he couldn’t see anything. He trusted Nicky’s superior eyesight. “What is it?”

“A speck,” said Nicky, “that could _possibly_ be an airship that’s far away!”

“Or a bird that’s slightly closer,” muttered Aaron.

“Or a moth that’s even closer,” added Neil.

“Shut up,” said Nicky. “It’s an airship! We’re saved!”

“Unless they decide to shoot _us_ out of the air, too,” Aaron pointed out.

“Or the _Butcher_ catches up before they get here,” said Andrew, peering into the periscope. It was looking more and more likely that that would be the case. “How far do you think their weapons’ range is?”

“They got within a kilometre of us before we made up some ground in the mountains but they didn’t shoot,” said Neil. “So less than that.”

“It’s going to be close,” said Andrew.

“What about your weapons?” asked Erik, his voice hushed.

“Primed and ready, but the need to be a whole lot closer before we can use them,” replied Nicky. “They’d beat us in an outright firefight, which is why we’re running away.”

The tension was thick, waiting to see who would reach them first. Erik and Nicky were hugging and whispering assurances to each other—Andrew wondered if Erik was tired of airship adventures yet. Neil’s expression was grim and determined, not taking his eyes off Hatford’s ship as it came closer and closer.

“I think we’re going to make it,” said Aaron breathlessly. The engines sputtered out completely.

They were still hanging in the air, the lifting gas that filled the balloon independent from the engines, but they were at the complete mercy of the air currents that were pushing them back toward the Butcher’s airship.

“You just _had _to say something,” complained Neil. He reached for the cannon controls, when something like a wave of air passed over the ship.

Neil collapsed in a heap and all the instruments on the dash blinked off.

“I’m blind!” cried Nicky, groping at his face.

Andrew rushed to Neil and rolled him over. He was stiff as a board and completely unresponsive, his eyes staring sightlessly up at the sky.

“What the fuck just happened?” said Andrew, shaking Neil and trying not to panic. “Neil? Neil!”

“All our electrics are off,” said Aaron, fruitlessly flipping switches on and off. “That wave must have disabled them.”

Andrew dragged Neil to a secure corner of the cabin where he wouldn’t be stepped on as Nicky flailed around in a panic. “Get him out of here,” he commanded Erik, who gently escorted Nicky below deck.

“Weapons are offline, gasbag regulators are offline, radio is offline,” recited Aaron. “We still have manual rudder control, but that’s about it. We’re sitting ducks.”

Andrew thought fast. Hatford’s ship was coming to attack the _Butcher_, all they had to do was get out of the way. They had no lateral control and they couldn’t go up, so there was only one option he could see.

“We’ve got to manually expel all the lifting gas from the envelope,” he said.

“Are you insane?” demanded Aaron. “We’ll crash!”

“Exactly,” said Andrew. “They’re not going to follow us down.”

“Because it’s insane!”

“It’s not like we have any better options. If they shoot now we’ll go up in flames as soon as they hit our balloon.”

Kevin crashed up to the flight deck. “My arm’s not working and all the instruments in the engine room are dead!” he cried.

“Old news,” said Aaron. “We’ve moved on. Now we’ve decided to crash into the sea.” He pushed past Kevin and headed for the manual outlet valve. It was always kept closed, letting their automatic regulator adjust the balance of lifting gas and air in the balloon.

“What are you doing?” demanded Kevin.

“Landing,” said Andrew.

“In the water?! Can this thing even float?”

Andrew considered. “Yes,” he said. “At least I think so.”

“How sure are you?”

“At least ten percent sure.”

“Ten perc—”

“They disabled all our electrics,” Andrew cut him off. “Go see if you can wake Neil up, would you?”

He headed out to help Aaron with the valve.

“Are you sure?” asked Aaron as he joined him. “We’re not getting back in the air if we do this.”

“We’re not going to live if we don’t,” Andrew pointed out.

It was not a graceful descent. It was too fast and choppy and completely harrowing. The _Butcher_ moved as if it was going to follow them, but by then Hatford’s ship was in range. It was a full military airship, with reinforced plating and lots of firepower. Even the _Butcher_ was no match for it. If they hadn’t been crashing into the sea, Andrew really would have enjoyed the sight of Nathan’s ship turning tail and trying to run. They loosed seemingly all their weapons at the Hatfords before they were turned into a fireball. Those people would never be coming after Neil again. Assuming they hadn’t already broken him irreparably.

The splash down was violent, tossing them around as they hit the water. The _Monster_ bobbed on the waves like a cork for several minutes, before it settled. Andrew waited for any worrying noises, but it seemed as if they were floating. The deflated balloon collapsed onto the flight deck.

“Are we floating?” came Aaron’s muffled voice.

“We might be sinking slowly,” said Kevin, ever the optimist.

Andrew got to work cutting away the _Monster_’s envelope and throwing it overboard. He didn’t want to admit that he regretted seeing it go. It had been the sight of home for so long now.

In the distance, Hatford’s ship was heading back the way it had come, a plume of black smoke emanating from one of its engines. Good, thought Andrew, that meant they weren’t coming after them either.

Nicky and Erik appeared on the flight deck shortly after their landing. They were both bruised from being tossed around but Nicky at least was able to see again. If it was only a short-term electronic shut down, there was hope for Neil. Andrew had been keeping away from where Kevin was fiddling with Neil’s control panel, not wanting to hear if he’d been permanently disabled. Now he headed over to check on him, Nicky on his heels.

The electric controls were also back online, so Andrew turned on their emergency alert beacon, hoping that someone affiliated with Wymack was close enough to receive it. It was on a closed channel, one that wouldn’t alert Neil’s uncle. Maybe Andrew should have sent him an SOS; he wasn’t sure how long they’d last floating on the open sea. He’d give his allies a couple days to find them before asking for help from strangers.

Kevin activated something in Neil that made a buzzing sound and Neil jerked wildly.

“What did you do?” Andrew demanded. “Is he fixed?”

Neil hauled himself into a sitting position, and looked around warily.

“Neil,” said Andrew, unable to disguise his relief.

Neil glared up at him and spat several words in what sounded like Spanglish. Andrew looked to Nicky.

“Uh…” said Nicky. “He said, ‘release me, stranger, or I will fight you’.”

“He seems back to normal to me,” said Aaron dryly.

##### ADRIFT ON THE ADRIATIC SEA, YEAR 1424 NE, MAY

“Try it again,” said Andrew, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. He hadn’t slept much since they’d left Bavaria, first too wrapped up in the chase and then too busy keeping an eye on the hostile android on board.

Neil, still only deigning to speak Spanglish despite the fact that he clearly understood everything they said to him, was convinced they’d kidnapped him. Andrew was worried that he’d try to escape and end up sinking to the bottom of the sea.

“I’ve already tried it three—” said Kevin helplessly.

“Try. It. Again,” interrupted Andrew. He wasn’t willing to admit that Neil’s memories were gone for good and that he’d been replaced by an uncooperative stranger who wore his face.

“Fine,” said Kevin, muscling Neil into a position where he could access his control panel. It wasn’t easy without Neil’s cooperation; he kept trying to bite Kevin. He was also swearing quite impressively, using the only Spanglish words that Andrew recognized.

“I’m not sure forcibly resetting his systems is endearing you to him,” said Aaron, coming up the stairs onto the flight deck. He was sweaty and oil-stained from when he’d been trying to rig something that might propel them through the water.

“He gave me permission,” said Andrew, not looking up from where he was helping Kevin pin Neil to the deck.

Aaron raised his eyebrows, looked pointedly to where Neil was struggling like a wildcat and back at Andrew.

“He said that I could do whatever I wanted as soon as he forgot who I was.”

Neil suddenly went limp. Kevin pulled back and gave Andrew a shattered look.

“That’s the last time,” he said.

Andrew didn’t argue. None of the resets had worked and they made him feel vaguely guilty—Neil had only taught him how to reset him in case of emergency (this certainly qualified) because he trusted Andrew.

Neil spasmed as his power came back online. Andrew and Kevin backed up, knowing that he always reacted violently in these first few minutes. He was chained by the ankle to the guardrail so he couldn’t get close enough to attack them, which would likely be fatal. Although Neil usually hid it, he was much stronger than he looked.

Andrew tired not to let himself hope but it was still a gut punch every time Neil blinked and looked around and didn’t show any recognition when he caught sight of Andrew. The worst was not knowing if this memory loss was a byproduct of what according to Kevin had been an electromagnetic pulse or if this was the end result of the memory erosion that Lola had described. He wasn’t sure if he should be waiting for Neil to be restored or if he should start trying to earn this version of Neil’s trust. There were no other options. He had promised Neil that he’d never leave him.

Neil surveyed his surroundings, narrowing his eyes slightly when he saw Andrew and Kevin. He tugged on the chain on his ankle, but he was only doing so for show. Andrew had purchased the chains specifically to hold Neil as a safety precaution when he’d first joined the crew; the metal was too strong for him to break and the cuffs locked magnetically so there was nothing for him to pick open.

“What do you remember?” asked Andrew.

Neil spat several curses at him before literally spitting as well.

“Charming as always,” said Aaron. Turning to Andrew, he lowered his voice. “What’s your plan?”

Andrew shrugged. “Float until someone rescues us or we die.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking about.”

“Bee can fix him,” said Andrew, with surety that he didn’t feel.

“If she can’t?”

Andrew was not ready to consider that yet. He didn’t reply for too long, his silence giving away more than he was willing to show.

* * *

Andrew was awoken by loud noises above him on the flight deck. The light filtering in through the porthole in his cabin was washed out and pale, indicating that it was very early morning. Still, he was up and moving before his brain was fully awake. All he knew was that he had to get to Neil.

The light looked wrong as he dashed up to the flight deck, but his groggy brain wasn’t able to figure out why until he emerged into the fresh air. There was an airship hovering close above them, its bright orange envelope glowing in the rising sun.

Andrew squinted up at it.

A backlit figure leaned over the railing. “Hellllloooooo Captain Minyard!” Dan shouted down to him. He could hear the shit-eating grin in her voice. “That’s a nice boat you got there. Mayhaps you require some assistance?”

##### PALMETTO, YEAR 1424 NE, JUNE

Even though the crew of the _Upper Class_ had agreed to book it back to Palmetto as soon as they learned what had happened to Neil, the trip was not nearly fast enough for Andrew. On top of his worry about Neil, he didn’t enjoy living in cramped quarters or being a passenger instead of the captain.

The _Upper Class_ was a similar size to the _Monster_, with six crew cabins. It was more than a little tight with ten people and one restrained android on board. The sleeping arrangements weren’t a problem: Kevin bunked with Dan and Matt; Renee shared a room with the other two crew members, her boyfriend and girlfriend, Seth Gordon and Allison Reynolds; Nicky and Erik also shared, which left three cabins for Aaron and Andrew between them. Andrew was sleeping only during the day for brief periods of time; otherwise he was keeping an eye on Neil and making sure he didn’t cause trouble in his memoryless state.

It had been harder than expected to leave the _Monster_ behind. They’d spent a full day emptying it of all useful supplies and any other components they could easily strip. As the _Upper Class_ had risen away, leaving the sad-looking gondola bobbing in the sea, Andrew had stood at the railing with Aaron and Nicky on either side of him and watched as it faded into the distance. As much as the _Monster_ had been his, it had also been theirs; the three of them and Kevin had salvaged it and fixed it up together. He knew that it wouldn’t be hard to get a new ship, he could probably find something worth ‘commandeering’ while in Palmetto, but it would never be the same. They were headed toward change; regardless what happened with Neil, he knew that Aaron wanted to be with Katelyn, and it appeared that Erik was sticking around. Whatever they did next was going to be different from their last six years aboard the _Monster_ together. It was the end of an era.

Nostalgia and sentimentality were not something Andrew usually wallowed in, but then looking to the future also wasn’t something he’d spent a lot of time doing until recently. Until Neil.

Andrew breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he saw the giant balloons of Palmetto. Neil, sitting on the flight deck near his feet, looked up at the sound. He said something which Andrew understood to be a question about his plans. Andrew had gotten a lot better at understanding Spanglish during the trip; Neil was still speaking it almost exclusively, although he had switched to something that sounded like Soviet a couple times in order to stymy Nicky and Dan.

“We’re going to see an engineer,” said Andrew. “And she’s going to pick through your brain until you’re fixed.”

Neil tugged insistently on the chain that held him, before springing forward. Andrew took one measured step back out of his range.

“Trying to push me overboard?” he asked calmly, feeling exhausted. He’d had to be constantly on his guard against Neil’s repeated attempts to kill him. He wondered if there was something wrong with him that the murder attempts mostly made him feel fond. Neil was acting exactly as Andrew would expect him to act around strangers who had kidnapped him. Despite his lack of memories it seemed his personality was intact.

Getting Neil to Bee was going to be a problem. He was fast and strong and resourceful and difficult to incapacitate. Andrew didn’t have anything that could knock him out and the reset only worked for ten or fifteen seconds. He hoped that Bee would have something. Maybe Wymack had cattle prods in Palmetto, like Nathan’s men had carried in Bavaria, although the sparks they produced made that unlikely.

It turned out that Andrew needn’t have worried; Dan had already radioed ahead to Wymack about their problems. Bee was waiting for the _Upper Class_ when it docked, holding a small tool in hand. Andrew had never seen it before but Neil clearly recognized it from the way tension entered his frame. It was subtle, but Andrew had been paying close attention to Neil ever since they’d met.

It took Andrew, Kevin, and Matt working together to hold Neil still enough for Bee to jab the small tool into his ear, which made him lose consciousness. Afterwards, Matt looked absolutely wrecked at having helped them do such a thing to Neil.

“Fix him, would you?” he said to Bee, not taking his eyes off of Neil’s small form.

“I intend to,” said Bee. “Bring him here.” She had a stretcher to carry him. There was a brief argument over who was going to carry Neil, which devolved into a squabble about who was the strongest among them, despite the fact that Neil’s frame was constructed from some light-weight material that meant he was barely heavier than he looked. Seth and Kevin both sulked when it was decided that all three women were stronger than they were.

Bee walked beside Andrew as Neil was brought to her lab, quizzing him about what had happened and Neil’s symptoms and behaviours before the EMP. Once they arrived and placed Neil on a gurney, Andrew took her out of the hearing range of the others and told her what Nathan and Lola had said. He didn’t think Neil would want anyone to know about his past but there was a chance it would help diagnose him.

Bee nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll take a look,” she said once he’d finished explaining everything. “He’s more advanced than anything I’ve worked with before, but if those hacks Nathan Wesninski and Lola Malcolm can figure it out, so can I. You should take a break; maybe get a drink at David’s.”

“No,” said Andrew stubbornly. “I’m staying here.”

“Andrew,” said Bee, completely no-nonsense. “I have to open up his neural net. That means I have to make an incision along his hairline and peel down the skin of his face to expose the inside of his skull. You don’t want to see that.”

Andrew hesitated for a few moments longer before conceding, the thought of what she was describing making him nauseated. “You send for me the second you know anything.”

“Of course,” said Bee, kindly. “I've got Abby and Renee here to help me; we'll figure this out.”

He nodded sharply and turned to leave, not sparing a glance for where Neil lay. He knew that if he saw Neil looking defenseless and vulnerable nothing could persuade him to go, no matter how much he trusted Bee. Instead, he focused on figuring out what they were going to do once Neil was fixed.

It didn't take him long to reach _The Fox and Hound_. Wymack was behind the bar, so Andrew grabbed a stool and waved him over. He wasn't there specifically for the drink Bee had suggested but he was perfectly happy to indulge in one as he went about his business.

“Sounds like you've had a busy couple of months,” said Wymack, using the rag over his shoulder to clean a glass before pouring a couple fingers of cheap swill into it.

“Nathan Wesninski is dead,” said Andrew.

Wymack whistled. “You sure?”

“His ship went up in flames. I'm fairly certain he was on it at the time; we heard his voice over the radio as he pursued us.”

“Good riddance.”

“Is that going to cause problems with the Moriyamas?”

“It'll weaken them for a bit, but those bastards always seem to eel out of consequences. I won’t be surprised if they show up to cause issues for us in the future.”

“It's a problem for the us of the future, then,” said Andrew, draining his drink and tapping a request for more. “In the meantime, I need a ship.”

“The last time I gave you a line on a ship, you drove it into the sea,” grumbled Wymack.

“_Once_ in six years I did that,” said Andrew.

“Don't do it this time,” said Wymack, straightening. “I want you to take the _Fox_.”

Andrew was completely nonplussed. “That's your ship,” he unnecessarily pointed out.

“It's not like I've been flying her recently,” shrugged Wymack. “I was always going to pass her on and I know she'll be in good hands with you and Kevin and Neil.” He retreated to gruffness to mask the unexpected sentimentality of his words. “If you crash her, I’m going to make you wish you’d gone down with the ship.”

* * *

It was several hours later that Renee came to get him. By then Andrew was slightly buzzed from the alcohol, although Wymack had been watering down his drinks to prevent him from becoming completely shitfaced.

He felt abruptly sober when Renee appeared at his side. “Neil?” he asked.

“I’ll let Betsy explain,” she said. “You should come, too,” she continued, addressing Wymack.

He frowned in confusion, but nodded easily enough. Dropping his rag, he came around the bar, not needing to find a replacement since for the last few hours he’d been mostly been pretending to clean glasses while actually keeping an eye on Andrew and letting one of his employees tend bar.

Andrew swayed a bit on his feet when he stood, catching his balance quickly. He glared at both Renee and Wymack, daring them to comment, but Renee just smiled beatifically and led the way to Bee’s workshop.

Bee and Abby were waiting for them; past the two women Andrew could see that Neil was still powered down. A sick feeling curled through his gut.

“I found what was affecting his memory centres,” said Bee without preamble, holding up a small, metal rectangle. A familiar small, metal rectangle.

“It that…?” said Wymack, dumbfounded.

“I believe you’ve been looking for this, David,” said Bee, passing the usbee to Wymack.

“It was in _Neil’s head_?” Wymack’s face was disbelieving.

“Someone had nestled it in there,” shrugged Bee. “It was physically blocking the connection to his long-term memories.”

“But he was still able to remember some things,” protested Andrew. “He had access to memories.”

“As far as I can tell, whoever did this rerouted his memory-saving routines into what was supposed to be his short-term memory centres, completely bypassing long-term memory. That’s why his memory was starting to degrade recently; the short-term centres weren’t meant to hold so much information. When he was hit by the EMP, his system rebooted and tried to access his long-term memories, which were blocked.”

“So his memories of the last six years… they’re gone forever?” asked Andrew, his heart in his throat.

“Theoretically, no,” said Bee. “His systems are all confused and he can’t access them properly right now. It’ll take me some time to figure out the proper connections and programming. I’ve never seen anything so advanced and I don’t want to ruin anything. In the meantime—” she nodded at the usbee in Wymack’s hands “—should we see what’s on that?”

Andrew turned a suspicious look on Wymack. “You said that the information couldn’t be read.”

“Technically, I said it could be read by Ancient computers,” said Wymack.

“And it just so happens that I have one,” said Bee.

“Of course you do,” said Andrew. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

Bee led them over to a large bank of metal rectangles, hooked up to a power source. She sat in front of a screen and held out her hand for the two usbees. Wymack passed over the one he was holding and reached to undo the other from around his neck. Bee plugged one into a little port, which caused a pop up on the screen to ask her for the encryption key. She plugged in the second usbee, causing another popup filled with what seemed to be gibberish to appear. Bee typed something (Andrew’s knowledge of computers was severely limited. As far as he was concerned, she was performing magic), and the first popup disappeared, replaced by multiple popups: some showing text, some showing pictures.

“What is it?” asked Wymack, leaning forward to peer at the screen.

“It looks like… blueprints,” said Bee slowly. “Plans and designs.”

“For what?” said Wymack. “A weapon?”

“For Neil,” said Bee, looking up at Andrew.

“But this is Ancient tech,” said Andrew, baffled. “Nathan Wesninski said he created Neil.”

“What sounds more likely; that he created something exponentially more advanced than anything that has been made since the Long Winter, or he found an Ancient android and claimed he’d invented it?” said Renee.

“That explains why he never made a second one when he lost Neil,” mused Wymack.

Andrew looked over to where Neil was lying prone. “Neil looks just like him.”

“Easy enough to do with synskin,” shrugged Abby.

“We could ask Neil,” said Bee, clicking through several of the popups. “I’m pretty sure that with these I can fix his memory issues.”

#### Epilogue

##### PALMETTO, YEAR 1424 NE, JULY

Andrew found Neil where he expected: on Palmetto’s viewing platform, staring out over the landscape far below.

“The fall probably won’t kill you,” said Andrew. He was certain that Neil was already aware of his presence, but he didn’t want to accidentally startle him when they were up so high.

“You could push me over the side to find out.”

“An apocalypse didn’t kill you,” Andrew pointed out. “It just left you buried in ash for thousands of years.”

They’d pieced together Neil’s past. Once Bee had fixed his neural connections, he’d regained his blocked memories.

Andrew had realized how tense he’d been until Neil had blinked awake in Bee’s lab and had looked right at him with recognition.

“Andrew,” he’d said, before stopping short and looking around with a puzzled expression. It had slowly morphed into a wry one. “I’m guessing that something went wrong?”

“You could say that,” said Andrew. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“We were heading south over the Adriatic Sea away… from… my father…” he’d trailed off, his expression thoughtful.

“You remember him now?”

“Yes, I… what happened?”

“Bee found something in your head, physically blocking the connection to your memories,” Andrew had told him. “We’re not sure how it got there—”

“My mother,” Neil had interrupted him. “I remember. She didn’t want Nathan to give me to the Moriyamas; she said that they’d enslave me and that she hadn’t worked so hard designing me to give me away. She took me and several valuable pieces of tech and we ran.”

“And she hid the tech in your brain?”

“I don’t remember that part,” Neil had shrugged. “But she was worried that Nathan may have added a subroutine that would make me return to him. Maybe she figured by blocking my memories, I wouldn’t.”

“She told you she designed you?” Andrew had asked. “She didn’t. According to the information that Bee uncovered, you were found in a bunker in an area of the Barren Continent called the Valley of Silica.”

Neil’s brow had furrowed. “My first memory is waking up in my father—Wesninski’s lab,” he hastily corrected himself.

“They likely reformatted you,” said Andrew. “Or it’s possible you were never activated before the Yellowstone supervolcano erupted.”

“I can’t believe I existed then,” marvelled Neil.

“Kevin’s going to be disappointed that you don’t have memories of the Barren Continent before it was barren.”

Neil shivered. “I’m not sure I want them.”

Now, Neil was looking down at the two usbees that held instructions on how to create others like him. Wymack had left it up to him to decide what to do with them.

“What are you thinking?” asked Andrew.

“I looked through the files,” said Neil. “Wymack was right. The blueprints on these things are for a weapon.”

“You’re not a weapon.”

“I was originally created to be one. Vicious, strong, obedient—”

Andrew snorted. “You’re meant to be obedient? Whoever programmed you is the worst programmer in the history of time.”

A ghost of a smile spread over Neil’s face. “In the wrong people’s hands, this technology could be immensely destructive. Can you imagine if I’d been made to be loyal to the Moriyamas? They already control the entire north of the continent. They don’t need any more advantages.”

“Good thing they’ve never going to get you, then.”

“Promise?”

Andrew took a step closer. “Of course I do.”

Neil took one last look at the usbees, before tightening his hands into fists, shattering them. He threw the broken pieces over the side of Palmetto’s deck.

“Okay,” he said. “What now?”

“Kevin wants to go to Bangkok,” said Andrew.

Neil chuckled. “Big surprise. How’d you convince Wymack to give you the _Fox_, anyway?”

“He was drawn to my winning personality.”

“I bet he was,” said Neil, turning and taking a couple steps toward him. He stumbled and stopped short, uncharacteristically graceless.

Andrew rushed to catch him before he could fall, especially so close to the edge. “Neil?” he asked in trepidation.

Neil blinked a couple times. “Wait,” he said slowly. “Who are you?”

Andrew’s heart stuttered before he noticed the smirk that Neil was fighting back. “You’re not funny,” he said peevishly, letting go of him and crossing his arms in annoyance. “I hate you.”

“I’m hilarious,” corrected Neil.

“I should push you off the side.”

“I thought we established that I won’t die.”

“Then it’s the perfect punishment.”

Neil laughed and looped his arms around Andrew’s neck. “You would never.”

“I might,” said Andrew grumpily. He wrapped his arms around Neil’s waist, belying his words.

“You wouldn’t. And if you did, you’d fall with me.” Neil leaned in to kiss Andrew’s neck, unerringly hitting the spot that always made a shiver go up Andrew’s spine. “We belong together.”

**Author's Note:**

> gluupor can be found on tumblr [@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com).  
pnkmoneel can be found on tumblr [@pnkmoneel](http://pnkmoneel.tumblr.com).  
fornavn can be found on tumblr [@fornavn](https://fornavn.tumblr.com/) and on instagram [@fornavngosexy](https://www.instagram.com/fornavngoesexy/%22).


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